Good parents do make a difference

I was so eager to begin my life’s journey that I arrived almost three months early.

I was born with Cerebral Palsy, a disease that affects my ability to walk. I weighed in at a whopping three pounds, six ounces, and lost to a little less than three before I rebounded and left the hospital in March 1986.
The doctors told Mama and Daddy I’d never walk or talk, but fortunately they don’t always have the last word. It took a while, but I caught on to the talking thing.
Mama refused to accept the prospect of my immobility.
She contacted a physical therapist, and in no time I was doing exercises to keep my spastic muscles loose. When I was five, I went to a hospital in Atlanta to have a surgery with a name so long I can’t pronounce it. It was a success, and steps began to come easier for me.
I got around pretty well, so I figured I didn’t need any more therapy.
Mama knew better, and despite my constant objections, she continued to pull and stretch my stubborn legs. I hated therapy. Mama knew I needed it. I was too young to understand at the time, but I know now Mama is one of the biggest reasons I’m able to walk. She taught me a valuable lesson I’ll use when I start my own family. If your kids don’t like something you know is best for them, go ahead and do it. They’ll thank you later.
Daddy taught me a lot, too. He taught me I could be anything I wanted as long as I put my mind to it. He taught me setbacks may slow you down, but they don’t have to stop you.
One of the hardest things I had to learn growing up was the fact there are, and will always be, things I’ll never be able to do. I also knew I wasn’t going to let something I couldn’t do stop me from doing something I loved, so I majored in Sports Journalism when I got to college.
Growing up, I hated the words “handicapped,” “disabled” and “physically challenged.” Cerebral Palsy will always be a part of me, but it will never define me.
I see it as a blessing. It forces me to realize every day I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for God. My ability to walk, communicate and function comes from Him.
People sometimes say I am an inspiration, and it always makes me uncomfortable because it’s not me they should be inspired by.
It’s the God who turns my disability into ability, and my tests into my testimony.
And it’s my parents, who are the reasons I am who I am.