The Effect of my Father's Stroke

Hello,

As most of you know & I have remarked previously, my father is disabled. He has had open heart surgery, 3 strokes, as well as several other situations. For quite a while now, I have been trying to explain the impact that his illnesses have caused in our family. I think that I have finally been able to do so. I hope you all understand that this was done with love, & understanding. It is not meant as any sort of criticism or judgement. It's just something I need to say.

In January of 1999, my father suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke, meaning a stroke caused by broken blood vessels leaking into his brain. From my 2 years of hospital volunteer experience, I knew that a stroke is to the brain what an attack is to the heart. Still, I was surprised by the level of change it brought about in my dad. Before his stroke, he was an intellectual, a computer programmer with a passion for knowledge. He was the money manager, bread winner and head of household for my family. He prided himself on his honesty, independence, intelligence, logic and strength. I say all of this to show how drastically he changed.

In high school, Dad was a weight-lifter and martial artist. Over the years, he had gotten out of shape but had maintained a lot of his physical strength. After his stroke, suddenly, my father was too weak to support his own weight. The left side of his body did not respond properly. He, who had always been strong and independent, needed help to dress, get up/down, use the restroom etc. My Daddy, the strong man, was gone.

All of our lives, my dad raised my brothers and me to believe that honesty was the most important virtue. He always said he could forgive any action easier than he could a lie. Following his stroke, suddenly, my father was sneaky, manipulative and dishonest. It was not his fault really. He had behavior and memory problems, and in many ways became childlike. He would sneak food, ask me for something if Mom said no. He cried at sentimental movies. He was unwilling to admit fault or blame and would pout and whine to get his way. He lied to cover his guilt and shame or to avoid any disagreements. My Daddy, the pinnacle of truth in my world, was gone.

My family had always tried to follow the model my parents felt God wanted for our family. My mother ran a small business, but my dad was the bread winner and supported our family. Mom was mostly a stay-at-home mom who tried to be a submissive wife. Dad earned the money; Dad paid the bills; Dad filed the taxes. Mom ran her business, took care of family errands, and gave Dad, my brothers and me (when we lived at home) a loving home environment. After his stroke, suddenly, my father was not only incapable of working and handling finances, he no longer knew how he had done so. My mother had to start from scratch. My mother had so many new responsibilities, and my father needed so much care, that I took over the day-to-day operation of her business and lived at home. My Daddy, the rock and head of our household, was gone.

My father has since had 2 more strokes and open heart surgery. Each has brought its own changes to my father, my family and my life. However, the first stroke changed every aspect of who my father is, causing all of us to have to adjust our attitudes and behaviors toward him. I love my father, and I know how blessed I am to have him. I am thankful daily that God spared him. Having said that, I still, in my “daddy’s little girl” heart, can’t help but feel that my Daddy - the man who carried me on his shoulders - the man who protected me from the monsters - that man is truly gone…forever.

As always,

~Rebekah~