How do I get up from my knees?

     I always could lift myself. My arms can hold my weight if I move fast. I will pull up on things. By my strength, I have to hold onto something steady. If I think something is not steady, I will think of another way to get up. After breaking my hand, my friend gave me a stepping stool for brushing my teeth, which makes me feel safer. Yes, some days my body doesn't work right, but I'll figure a way to lift myself.
     For three years, Mom wanted to tried sitting Dad lift chair. I didn’t even try because I thought I couldn’t get up. I was about to rearrange the living room so I could sit on the couch to watch TV because I was getting tired of sitting on the floor. I tried Dad’s lift chair, and I love it. If Mom would see me now, she would be like, “See, I know that you would like it.”
     When Dad was able, he would lift me. Dad used to carry me like a sack of potatoes as he told me. He would tote me around until I got too heavy and then he only toted me into places I wanted to crawl. I was probably in my 30’s when he didn’t pick me up as much, but he would pick me up when we were late, or it was raining.
     I guess it was when Dad started having skin cancers removed, I started lifting myself in the van or in the truck. Thank God for handlebars and a step on the truck. I pulled up off my knees from an old jacket that I crawled in on the ramp and grabbed the bar and got in my seat. Dad or Mom stood behind me if case. Then after his friend and his got into a wreck, I got better, and it became second nature to me with our minivan. When Dad drove the truck, he would push me up.
     Mom couldn’t lift me after I was too tall for her. I’m dead weight, so it was hard for her. After Dad got sick, Mom and I worked to make it work. When I was getting out of the van, Mom grabbed my arm, and I held on to the van’s handlebar until I felt myself in the wheelchair. Only once did I fall. I was having a rough time with my left arm. When I was getting out, Mom grabbed me, but my arm shot with pain, and my hand opening automatic, and I fell. It was by the grace of God I didn’t hit my head on the cement, and a man helped us to get me into the wheelchair. It just felt like God’s hands was on me, and He was laying me down on the cement because I didn’t fall hard.