My father is gone. I don’t know where he is. He left because of my illness and because my Sister is not with us any more. He blames me for her death. I tried to move. I tried to crawl down stairs, but my legs did not want to work. He was an architect and made buildings all day. He was good at drawing and building models.
My father always seemed to watch me. He always seemed sad. I tried to be stronger for him. Sometimes I succeeded and was able to walk, other times my legs would not listen. He spent a lot of time away from home. I think he was sad to see me and want to stay away. My mother tried to be strong and told me that it was not my fault, but I know it was.
My father was always trying to fix me. He took me to a lot of different doctors. None of them were as nice as Doctor Clark. The doctors could not help me. He then took me to other people. He took me to a preacher who said he could heal me with God, but he couldn’t. This made my father really angry. I worked hard to get better, but he was still sad. He should see how I am doing now. James has helped me be really strong. But I guess it doesn’t matter.
He left us. My Mom was really sad but she never blamed me. I know it was my fault he left but she told me it wasn’t. Before he left he would come home drunk and get really upset. He never hurt us, but he would yell a lot at my Mom. I tried to get him to be happy but he didn’t want to see me. It hurt him to see me. I don’t blame him. If my legs were better we could have played baseball or football together. I think he wanted a real son and not a broken one. I don’t blame him. My sickness is difficult. He could not deal with it. But me and my Mom are dealing with it. We are getting stronger everyday. I know that I will never walk or run or play like everyone else. I’m glad he left. Now he doesn’t have to see me when I am weak.