The Second of More Than Two

Having been initiated into a world of overwhelming responsibility and fear, I found my first, and arguably most significant, matter for consideration courtesy of the Director of the Department of Pediatric Orthopedics in the hospital where my less-than one year old son had just been diagnosed as having Cerebral Palsy. “How do you do, Mister Brown, I understand that you have just learned that your son has some disabilities or handicaps. I want to make it clear that it is totally incumbent upon you, as his parent, to determine if he will be a Cripple.” (Yes… I agree with you, My Dear Reader, I wanted to slap his face. But I now, in hindsight, recognize the compassionate intent of his abrupt and seemingly indelicate methods.)

“Your son,” he continued, “being a normal human being, will, in response to his human nature, try to use his disabilities to avoid anything that he does not care to do and to do anything that he perceives that he can get away with by using the sympathies of those responsible for his development. It is my experience that, if you determine what he is capable of, early on, and require one hundred percent of that from him… ignoring his attempts to evoke a “Oh poor little handicapped you” response from you and all others… he will grow into a responsible person with some limitations just like every other person on this earth has, in some form or other. Or you can, at your option, succumb to his natural manipulations and allow him to use his disabilities to evade painful development… and he will grow into a physical and emotional cripple. The choice is entirely yours, sir. If I can be of any help or service, please let me know.” And that was my introduction to my future role as my son’s pivotal character for his future life. I can tell you that a goodly quantity of tears and a significant amount of time was spent with the aforementioned (see The First…) art prints as I considered all that I had been told was required of me.

I had my future role further defined on the night that my son was diagnosed. My wife’s mother had a clever system for maintaining her involvement in her first grandchild’s life happenings. It was her method to always invite us to her home for supper on the nights that our son had any sort of medical of therapeutic exam or procedure… thereby insuring the earliest update for her on his status. Thus, I found myself at her home on that night that the neurologist declared “Mister Brown, your wife’s suspicions that your son’s condition parallels the symptoms presented in the magazine article on cerebral palsy, are not, as you suspect, paranoia, but accurate and well founded. Your son does, in fact, have cerebral palsy.” When I suggested to my wife that she be the one to go to her mother’s house that night and deliver this bombshell of news… she insisted that I be the one to do so instead. So I found myself (through a flood of tears) saying the “CP” words to my in-laws at their dinner table that night. Their response immediately snapped me into a recognition of another reality. I would have to assume another role that I had no familiarity with. I had always been the “Sensitive One” in all situations. I was the one to show tears at movie scenes, stories of moving emotional situations, the playing of the national anthem, for crying out loud! But when I saw my in-laws go to pieces and begin a series of declarations to the effect that we must cover up my son’s condition with a bunch of inane diversionary explanations because “people just won’t understand”, I knew immediately that for the first time in my thirty years… I was to be the “rock.” And from that moment on, no one ever saw me shed a tear nor make any comment that would reflect anything other that a positive and constructive perspective on my son’s state. I was, from that instant, sentenced to several decades of loneliness in my anguish, pain, and concern. Something else to consider.

Now… what was the method that I utilized in taking on these responsibilities? I had long talks with God. Many, many of them for the first three months subsequent to assuming my new roles. I got up each day with a display of strength and confidence; took my son to his day-care person; went to my office; closed the door; and wept. I returned no phone calls. I met with no clients. I talked with no one in my office. I simply fell to my face on the carpet and under the weight of this terrifying and overwhelming responsibility. And I reviewed all of my life… every instance in which I had been presented with an opportunity to learn and develop individual responsibility… and had successfully avoided and/or manipulated the circumstance to evade the lesson-learning potential of the moment. Thirty years of steering through what my emotions defined as a mine-field of demands on my sense of inadequacies and insufficiencies. And here I was with Life demanding that I be “Super Dad”, not out of any desire to be so… but because the one person on this earth who I adored more than life itself needed a super father in order to have his best chance at life. And all he had was me! And “me” had to find out how to discover what he was capable of, so that I could encourage, challenge, inspire, require, demand, and stimulate him toward it for his best opportunity to have all that Life had in store for him. All the while, I had no clue as to who I was… what I was capable of… what my own handicaps and gifts were. These were my reflections for those first ninety days of self examination and determination. Then, each day at twenty minutes before time to go home, I would go to the men’s room; wash my face; straighten my appearance; and prepare myself to present the image of confidence and strength that the situation required.

This is where I began a pilgrimage… borne of loving necessity… in self-discovery and full-life realization. It is my sincere hope that the exposure of my still-painful story will be of some benefit to you, Dear Friend. It is in this hope and trusting that Life has a supreme purpose in my openness to you, that I offer myself complete with limitations and lessons learned for your use and edification… as I remain, Your Friend and Servant,

John-Michael