Disabilities don't need to hold back Dads

As Father’s Day approaches, I am reminded of my own father who, in the early 50s, began his medical practice in Bath, Carleton County. Our family grew to number 8 children; I am number 7, the ‘differently able’ one. Though he never intended for it to happen, Dad treated me more like a patient than a daughter. Perhaps that was inevitable, given his background and training and the realities of my situation from birth to date. Dad died in 2008, never the Father Knows Best kind of father, dispensing words of wisdom to his children. In fact, truth be told, he spent more time with other people’s children than he did with us. Nature of the beast growing a medical practice in a new place where the ‘rules of the road’ were different from the place where he was raised and educated.

    Fathers who are physically and emotionally present in the lives of their children, who accept, nurture and encourage them, make a huge difference. Physically, emotionally or economically absent fathers leave a gaping hole in the lives of their progeny, though ‘father hunger’ can be fed by other significant males in the world of a child – a teacher, a pastor, the school’s soccer coach, or a few local businessmen. All can have a role in nurturing fatherless children and contribute to them growing into self-confident, community minded adults.

    Being a father is about conceiving a child; being a DAD is so much more. Being a girl Dad! Now, that’s something else entirely.

    Men who live with challenges to daily living, notably the inability to walk and to run, to engage in rough and tumble games, to teach children to play ball, to golf, to skate and to swim, will often have feelings of guilt and uncertainty about whether they could be a Dad, should be a Dad. To them I say, go for it! There are so many things that a differently able Dad can teach his children without actually doing anything that involves physicality, unless making funny clown faces count. Children are like sponges, observing the goings on in their environments so it doesn’t take them long to fine tune a set of skills that allow them to settle in to the day to day with a parent who does things in a different way.

    Courtney Keenan became a first time Dad to Poppy last year. I’ve not yet met him, but I grew up across the road from and went to school with his Dad, Gary. Clan Keenan numbered 13 children, with many of theirs being of similar age to the MacInnis 8. We grew up at a time when inclusion was a given so I and those like me were part of the community with no thought to what we could or could not do. We simply went along as best we were able.

Courtney and his siblings grew up in small town New Brunswick as well, but at a time when there was greater access to technology and with that, a different type of education and opportunity than was my experience.

As a young man, Courtney sustained a catastrophic life altering spinal cord injury which, in an instant, derailed any sort of life plan he was nurturing at the time. His life today, in spite of C5 quadriplegia, speaks to the success he’s achieved in realizing many of his dreams; being a husband and father are top of his list. I’ve seen photos of him with his daughter and the joy is palpable.

Courtney Keenan and daughter, Poppy

    Men and women with SCI who become Moms and Dads may require certain supports to daily living not required by the uprightly mobile and able-bodied but that in no way diminishes their effectiveness as loving parents, able to meet the demands of child rearing, which is no easy task at the best of times. In fact, parenting from a wheelchair is a life lesson with staying power. Knowing that allows wheelie Dads and Moms to lighten up and loosen up and enjoy the journey with their child, from infancy to adulthood. Hang on for the ride through the teen years. 

    Courtney himself said it best: "People want to know what it’s like to be a Dad with a disability but what does it mean to be an able-bodied Dad? Is it not about loving beyond & giving of yourself? Does my disability diminish the joy her smile brings, the warmth I feel when she holds one of my fingers or the hopes I have for her future? As any father can attest, there are no words to describe how the love of a child makes you feel. I am a father & husband before anything else, especially disabled."

    Happy Father’s Day to all the folks fulfilling that role.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with Miss Lexie, a rambunctious Maltese and Mr. Malcolm, a boisterous Havanese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca