Dad

 

            Dad’s journey with dystonia began at age fifteen as far as he can remember. Dad was seventh of eleven children. That’s right, my dad came from a huge family in the foothills of North Carolina. (My grandfather was one of thirteen!)

            When I say as far as he can recall, I mean that no one noticed his limp. I would think dystonia showed up earlier, but went unnoticed because my grandparents had ten other kids to care for and worry about. He was fifteen the first time he went to the doctor for the limp. As It was the end of the polio epidemic, the doctor told my grandparents he had a slight case of polio.

            It was a good guess, a wrong guess, but as good as any. My dad walked on his left toe. I think that’s how the majority of us started. Some started other ways, but four of us started walking on our left toe.

            That’s what Dad told Mom; he had polio. Dad’s limp must have bothered him more than anyone knew because mom tried to get him to go to college for an engineering degree after they married, but dad wouldn’t go because that stupid slight limp. (I can say that, being his daughter, but it was a stupid reason not to fulfill his dream.) Dad had a wonderful mind for numbers! When he was older, he could do almost any calculation in his head. My uncle asked me about selling some lumber, and dad knew the answer before I could pick up a pen. He was that intelligent!

            He always wanted to be an engineer, and my mother wanted to be a teacher. Both of them would have been excellent at those jobs, but for various reasons, they missed out. They both worked in hosiery all their lives.

            Dad was strong to be so skinny, another characteristic of dystonia.

After they married, they lived with dad’s sister and brother-in-law for about a year, then moved into a tiny, two-room house on the property of Mom’s parents.

Mom often said that the best years of her life were in that tiny house. They both worked second shift for two of Dad’s brothers, and they would often sit in the car and talk until 12:00 to 1:00 am. My grandfather went out there every Saturday morning early and woke them, but Dad never complained! Mom said she thought her family liked dad better than her.

And then they were blessed with a baby boy in that tiny house.