Growing Up with a Handicapped Father: I Don't Know What He's Saying...

Growing Up With a Handicapped Father:  

'I don't know what he is saying.'  At least that is what I told them!

Here is a flashback for you.  This experience recently came into my mind.  I wanted to record it!

My dad had his stroke when I was in first grade.  I feel like I remember more about getting hit by a car in first grade than I do about dad's stroke.  I've not talked much about that event at all here on my blog, mostly because the focus has been on things I do, and my family life now.  I've not really shared my past, which has shaped and molded so much of who I am.

I'll have to post that part of my story in the future, for today's purpose know this...

My dad had a stroke when he was 42 and recovered his ability to walk and eventually talk, in simple few-word phrases.

Let's go back to, I think fourth grade.  I can't remember exactly if I was in 4th grade when this happened, but it was around that time-ish.  It was 1986 or 87.  

We were about 3 years into life post stroke, so my dad was walking and still new with his speaking still simple one work speaking at that point.

I'm pretty sure my little brother and I were running late on this particular day and because of that didn't want to go to school.  We were afraid of being tardy.

Instead we decided to just not go!  Great idea right?

Where would we go?  What would we do?

We decided we'd hide out in our big tan van, in the garage for the day.

In we went!  We visited, hung out for what seemed like hours!!

Our adrenaline pumped like crazy when dad came out to empty a garbage.

We stayed quiet and still, so he wouldn't hear us!

I had a glass unicorn figurine necklace that I wore at that time.

I don't remember how, but the horn broke off the unicorn and cut me!

I'll have to ask my brother what his memories are of this, he's a couple of years younger than I am.

I don't remember if we went inside because I was bleeding or if my dad figured out we were hiding, that is all a mystery to me now!

I do remember that not much of the day had passed, unfortunately, when we were found!

My dad was so mad at us!!!  He needed no words to express himself!

He walked us to school, shooing and pointing with his cane, shaking his head and huffing at us!

He was mad!

I do distinctly remember this part of the story...

The part where we walked into the school office, late, my dad trying to tell the secretary why we were late... 

I'm pretty sure he used the words: van, naughty, late, hide

Both my brother and I looking at each other all confounded and surprised, pretending we had noooooo idea what he was saying!!!

Of course they couldn't understand what the situation was, so we went to our classes, and he walked home.

Can you believe it?  Totally took advantage of the situation there!  We got off scot-free!

Oh how frustrating that would be as a parent... to not be able to speak!

His mind was totally functional!  His ability to articulate that was gone.

In the same situation I imagine I'd want to yell at my kids and maybe smack them with my cane... then go home and cry that I'd lost all control as an effective parent! :)

As the child I felt remorse.  I felt bad, in that very moment, I knew was lying.  I felt embarrassed that he couldn't talk, but thankful, in that situation where I'd made a bad choice.  I think I escaped a school consequence at least!

As an adult, as my father's daughter, I'm sorry that I disrespected my dad, that I was dishonest, but mostly that I acted like I didn't know what he was saying... because I knew him and his heart, and most of the time I absolutely knew what he was saying.

As an adult looking at the situation, my mom having to go to work to earn a living for our family, I can see how kids could get into trouble, with no one there.  I'm glad my dad was, even though our situation was different, I'm glad he was alive, at home, still present, still caring about our choices and holding us accountable, still playing his role as leader and father.

I only have 2 photos of that time period in my life, and they have a story, so I'll save them for their own post.

Instead I'll attach this ... it's an oldie, but a goodie.