Thank you Wayne, for sharing this insight as a parent who has been gifted to parent a child with special needs.  I’m continually amazed by His love- Cindy

A Letter to My Son- by Wayne Stauffer

 published 1994 – Exceptional Parenting Magazine

Dear Timmy,

It’s hard to think of all I’ve learned from you that I should have learned from your non-disabled brothers beforehand.

Forgiveness.  Patience.  Love.  Compassion.  Kindness. 

But without you, I would be less likely to pay close attention most of the time.

I am not finished with my education either; I learn something new from you every day.

I learn I am not the center of the Universe.  The evening news will still be as depressing if I don’t see it because I am helping you eat, or do your homework, or organize one of your collections, or do one of the hundreds of other things you need help with. The books will wait for me to read, and the papers will wait to be graded. This article will will get written a little later than I intended, if I take a few seconds to turn on the light you can’t reach for yourself. I can be selfish about my time and the things I want to do, but I will always have “Dad time” for you.

I improve my problem solving skills when I try to figure out how to get you on the rides at AstroWorld, the bleachers at the Dome, or seats at the movie theatre. I take aisle width less for granted than I did before you came into my life.  I can judge wheelchair width pretty well now.   I’m still working on the job possibilities  that you will have available in less than 10 years!

I take more time to examine important things, like toads and blossoms and rabbits in the tall grass, because I’m looking for things to point out to you.

I don’t take myself too seriously because your slap-stick sense of humor helps me see the comedic side of me dancing in pain after I’ve drop a heavy box on my foot or shaking my hand after I hit it with a hammer.

I learned that the little things in life are important– a give-away pen from a convention; a toy from a $2.50 fast food kids meal; a two minute call home to a sick boy to see how you’re doing; a trip with just me to the corner to gas up the car or a trip to the hardware store to get the right plumbing joint.  The “thing”  isn’t as important as me as remembering you during the day and how much you mean to me.

When I taught junior high kids, I learned that its not how much or what kind of time I spend with children that counts- its timing.  Being there at the right time.  Timmy- you remind me of this every day.  I got stuck in the rain when you went into oral surgery to have 9 silver caps put on your teeth. By the time I finally got there, you were out of the O.R. and recovering slowly from the anesthesia. You were fine, but I missed being there for you when you went in.  I was working the day you walked the first time.  The surgery at Shriner’s hospital went as planned a few days before, and you were ready sooner than they expected to start walking with a walker.  The therapist videotaped it or I never would have shared in your triumph! I was there for you, too, to help soothe your dignity when you fell face first in the sandpit at the playground.  You were doing so well walking in the sand with your walker.  Then the front got stuck, you went down before I could catch you, and all I could do was help you up, clean off the sand, and be there to share your embarrassment.  I’ve been there for you more than once when you were sick and “tossed your cookies” before we got to the commode. I was there holding you in the tilt-a-whirl when you did fine and I was the one who almost lost my lunch.

These are all the things I should be learning from your brothers, who don’t have cerebral palsy, but if it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be paying attention to these lessons.  Since they can fend for themselves on most occasions, I tend to take them for granted more than I should.  Since I can’t take you for granted, I make sure to listen to you, and in turn, them, closer than I probably would otherwise.

You remind me every day that, although your cerebral palsy affects who you are, it does not define WHO you are.

There is so much more to Timmy Stauffer, than cerebral palsy that keeps him from standing without a walker and makes him lose balance in a chair without armrests.

Your CP does not have to be the set of limits that keep you from realizing your dreams; you can dream dreams that others cannot even imagine.  Our problem is really not as much your CP- as it is getting to others who have small imaginations to expand their ideas about special qualities and unique abilities that make all people successful.

I’m a better person and a better dad than I would be without you.  Thanks.  I hope I’m a better dad for you and your brothers because of it.  You’ll have to let me know later on.

All my love,

Dad