I think that I updated my signature card in my Credit union last summer? I’m really glad that I did because I had to sign my mail-in ballot two days ago. I haven’t written anything at all in a couple of years, I think.
Control of my hand dexterity is pretty much nonexistent at this point. I squeeze my therapy putty every day for an entire rosary, which is usually 18 minutes except on Tuesdays and Fridays when I say the Sorrowful Mysteries, So then it is 20 minutes. I was face-to-face with that fact the other day when I had to sign my mail-in ballot.
After my Mom had filled out both of our ballots, she was filling out the outer sleeve. There’s a spot for my signature and her signature as the person who filled out my ballot goes. She handed the envelope to me on top of a box. I needed the bigger object to control my hands. Before I had her give me a pen, I told her that I should practice.
My signature consists of my initials for my first name. It’s just a squiggle and then I sign my last name. My last name is only four letters. I thought that it was easier to write a couple years ago. I think I wrote my complete signature about 20 or 30 times on the back of an envelope. Not one signature was the same.
I decided that my hands were starting to get tired and I just needed to sign. I did it, kind of, I think. My Mom told me that I should practice and that I will lose it if I did not. I just told her a flat out, “No.” I don’t need to write anything because it is difficult. I only sign my ballot every couple years.
I thought about the time that I was Linus in the school play, You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown in high school. Back when I used to be able to sing. I think that I was a Junior?
I vaguely remember singing about fighting with big sister, Lucy. There was a line about something about my pencil, and I was given a large pencil as a prop. I held over my head as we were on the fake bleachers on stage because we were singing in a recital. I remember singing something about my pencil.
At this point, my loss of my writing ability has been years in the making. I remember when I was student teaching that he would tell my students that my writing is ‘obscenely large’ because it had started to get bigger as I began high school. I think that I coined that phrase in college, probably when MS was really beginning to set into my body.
I followed my matter of fact, ‘no,’ with the statement that ‘we should get a fatter pen’ because my fingers l hurt holding that normal sized pen. I have to sign my ballot because my Mom does not have power of attorney over me because at this point I can still think clearly. That a whole ‘nother bridge to cross if and when that happens. It’s going to happen. Maybe I should just stop voting when it does? That’s sad!
