My road came to an unexpected halt on November 9, 2010.

On that day, I was bicycling to work when a garbage truck drove into a Philadelphia bike lane. I was in that bike lane.

A team of trauma surgeons saved my life, but they had to amputate my left leg above the knee. The accident changed my body and health forever.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

These words started me on my journey to walk again. Over time, they became a way of life.

I am a person with ability and disability. I travel in the space between. These are my postcards.

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

Memento Vivere

 A haunted hello from Mile 14,078...

...where a good-leg day meets a pain in the neck!

(That's a vampire joke!)

Remember Rainbow?

Well, she's 16 now, and while she's darkened her outerwear, she's still as colorful as ever on the inside.  

She's also old enough to do her own "googling," so she's been obsessed with visiting Vampa, the Vampire and Paranormal Museum in Doylestown, PA, about an hour north of Philly.

I'd been dragging my feet -- prosthetic and real -- because of the hassle of getting there. 

But at Mile 14,078, we finally make the coveted trip, just in time for Halloween.  

And it does not disappoint!

Stakes and crosses and Ouija boards -- Oh, my!

Not to mention a collection of (probably) haunted dolls.

News to me:  Vampire hunting was all the rage in 19th century France.  (Who knew?)

News to Rainbow:  Even Michael Jackson owned a vampire hunting kit.  (Maybe not that surprising!)

But it's the hourglass exhibit that appeals to me most.

My grandparents used to have one, and I'd completely forgotten about it until now.

I can picture myself, maybe 9 years old -- two feet in socks -- standing on the flat carpeting of their home, gripping the hourglass in my hand.

Turning it.
Watching the sand rain down.
Turning it again.

Was it real?  An antique?  Or just a toy?

My grandfather pretended to be Béla Lugosi.  Love at First Bite was in theaters, although he was a fan of the original.

A sign at the museum draws me back, bridges the gap between then and now:

Just like the hourglass, we have the power to turn our hardships around.

This time of year, my emotions run thick as witches' brew.  Everything stirs them.

For a taste, revisit Mile 143 or 2,127, or 6,825.

November is coming, and with it, the anniversary of my accident.  It's been 15 years, but it still makes me pause.

Next to a heavy-curtained window, another sign catches my eye.  

Memento Mori.
Remember that you have to die.

Memento Vivere.
Remember to live.

Here, at Mile 14,078, that last part resonates most.  

Memento Vivere.

It sparkles like a vampire in the sun.

(Or is that only in Twilight?)

Happy haunting,
Rebecca

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