About two years ago, my father had a stroke. One day he came home from the airport really tired and sweaty, so my brother and I decided to leave him alone so he could get some sleep. The next thing we knew, he told us to call a neighbor and to get him to a hospital. We found out that he had been hit with a golf ball in his neck, which caused a blood clot. The clot was stopping the flow of blood to his brain. He had to have the clot removed, but by taking it away, the doctors also took away some of his ability to walk and his balance.
My father has been trying so hard to gain back what he lost, both in terms of his walking and balance and in terms of the normal life that we all had. Everyone in our family was affected, and we have all tried so hard to make everything stay the same.
But I felt that all of the trying wasn't going anywhere and that this nightmare was never going to end. I felt like my family was never going to be the same. I felt that all of my friends were laughing and pointing their fingers at me because my father was in a wheelchair, but the whole time they were really behind me and felt for me.
I have learned to accept that things happen for the better, even when it is the worst possible thing that you can imagine. My family and friends have helped me to understand that having a father in a wheelchair is so much better than no father at all.