Hearing a knock, I wheeled myself to the front door. ‘Hello, Mum!’ smiled my daughter Lorraine, 42.
She had her beautiful rottweiler Darla with her.
Once a week we’d spend a day together playing board games, working on my flower and vegie garden, and walking Darla around the local park.
‘You’re such a good girl,’ I’d say, scratching Darla under the chin.
Living by myself, I often felt lonely. So my favourite part of the week was when Lorraine stopped by.
I hadn’t always relied on a wheelchair though.