Bill and I

I wrote about going to Bill Porter's funeral yesterday.  I didn't want to clutter my tribute to Bill yesterday, but what I went through getting from my van into the church made me think "what would Bill do?"

I found the disabled parking spaces at St. Henry's Catholic church in Gresham.  I pulled my walker out of the van.  There were some doors near where I parked, but the looked like back doors, private entrances.  They did not look like entrances to the church.

I walked around to the front of the church.  It was a good distance for me, but if Bill could walk ten miles a day, I could handle this.  There might be a handicapped entrance at the back of the church that just was not obvious to me.

When I made it to the front of the church, I found three stairs to go up on the sidewalk leading to the church entrance.  I realized that I could walk a greater distance to avoid the stairs, but I was getting tired, and the service was about to begin.

I was just going to fold my walker and drag it up the stairs.  A bit crazy, I know, but like Bill and most other disabled people out there...you spend a lot of your life figuring out ways to do things that nobody else thinks you can do.

Just as I was about to do my crazy deed, a very kind woman at the top of the steps saw what I was about to do and she offered to help.  I thought about being bullheaded and telling the woman, "No thanks.  I can do this."

Instead, I figured the woman was there to honor Bill, a guy with disabilities.  Helping me, a guy with disabilities, was probably something she would like to do.   She carried my walker up the stairs.  I used the handrail to get myself up the stairs.  I thanked the lady as we made our way into the church.  She held the door for me.

During the service, it was mentioned how Bill did not like to ask for help.  Something we had in common.

Shelly Brady, whose family adopted Bill after his mother passed, thanked the many people for the help they gave Bill...cleaning his house, getting him to appointments, etc...

It made me smile.   No wanting to ask for help, but knowing when to accept it.

Bill and I had in common.