HOPE'S PLAYGROUND

This morning, Hope (my daughter) asked me why I never go into the playground with her like mommy does. How do you explain paralysis to a 3 year old girl, especially when you are her father and in a wheelchair? I don't want her to have pity for me - I want to be her hero. I explained that daddy was in an accident, and that my legs have to rest for some time before I can get up and play with her. That immediately broke my heart, because I knew I was never going to be able to live up to what I had just told her. I felt ashamed. I felt like a liar. I felt like a bad father.

I am writing this post to let others learn from my mistake today. I don't feel that we should pretend to be something we're not. If we are bound to a wheelchair and have to live life in this situation, then why are we afraid to have people love us less if we can't walk? Do hospitals lie to a patient's family, even in the worse cases? Usually they don’t. Doctors and nurses don't wander from the truth because they are not personally involved. I remember my doctor explaining my situation to me when I was in the hospital after my accident. I lay there, surrounded by medical equipment which I couldn't even identify (remember that I used to buy and sell medical and hospital equipment for a living up until then), scared to death of what kind of future I had in store for me, and he told me the absolutely truth.

I've been living with that truth every day since I left the hospital, trying to find some meaning with my life as it is. So why did I lie to Hope? There are many things that I can do with her, but I've been too frightened of rejection to start trying. I know now that I have to love and accept myself before I can truly bond with Hope. Yes, I may never be able to run around with her in the playground, or even push her on the swing like I'd like to, but I'm learning that I can be her hero by telling her the truth and trusting her love. That will be our playground.