The web of life

When I first met Gary Fieldhouse, I found it difficult to look at him because of his physical deformities.
His back arched away from the back of his wheelchair as though trying to escape contact with it. His hands bent forward at the wrist in permanent paraylysis. When he spoke, he threw his head back and garbled out a few words before inhaling and garbling out more.
Yet he would not be silenced at this gathering of disabled people seeking to tell reporters how their depictions in the press affected them. Only two reporters showed up for their press conferece. I was one.
Gary was born with cerebral palsy and I was so impressed with his determination to be heard -- and to advocate for other disabled people -- that we soon became friends. I wrote a series of stories about his efforts to start a group home in the Lawrence, Mass., area for physically disabled adults who wanted to remain independent. Though he never realized that dream, he ended up living independently in a similar situation in western Massachusetts.
But then he was sent to live in a nursing home not five mintues from my Chester, N.H. house after being diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer -- this man who could never even hold a cigarette let alone smoke one.
He died in March of 2011, but only after realizing two other of his dreams -- reaching the age of 50 and getting his GED. The folks at Pinkerton Academy presented him with an honorary one weeks before he died.
Something unexpected happened when I -- and sometimes my husband and I -- went to visit Gary during his last weeks. We met his immediate family -- sisters and brothers and their spouses -- and started to share in their family celebrations with Gary -- a pizza party for his birthday, a graduation ceremony when he got his GED.
We have stayed in touch with one sister and her husband, Jane and Ken, and last week, they came to our house for dinner for the first time. We talked about Gary, of course, but also about our own lives and how much we have in common -- political leanings, a love of camping, a fascination with the outdoors.
Before they left, we pledged to go camping together this summer. And I couldn't help but think, as they drove away, how strange is the web of life -- that a chance meeting at a poorly attended press conference two decades ago could lead to a new friendship and tender memories of a warrior in a wheelchair.