Redefining Family After Brain Injury

Known by many, and now by you, I have a regular published column in HEADWAY, the print publication of the Brain Injury Association of New Hampshire. My story about redefining family will be featured in our upcoming winter issue, but I wanted to take a moment to share it with you today.

Life is not so much about what happens to you, rather the real indication of strength of character is how we persevere after hardship strikes.

It is my heartfelt hope that during this time of utter retail chaos, and the bombardment of marketing messages that show a life that advertisers want you to believe is normal, that for most of us, bumps along the way are just part of our life’s journey. None of us really lives a Hallmark Life.

Some of us have visible scars, while most of us carry our biggest challenges unseen, on the inside. Our wounds are the cracks in our collective Souls that let our inner light shines through.

Merry…. everything.

~David

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Redefining Family

I must admit that I am older than I feel most days. An hour of daily cardio and being mindful of the choices that I make in my life today have clearly been good for me. If you were to meet me for the first time – and it was a good TBI day – you would most likely not even suspect that I am disabled. It’s not that I am trying to hide my brain injury – at least most of the time. More so, it’s that I’ve come a long way since my 2010 injury.

It may come as a surprise to some that I grew up watching TV classics like Father Knows Best and Leave it to Beaver. These well-watched shows of my youth portrayed families that were quite traditional for the time period. There was a stay-at-home mom, a dad who went to work every day, and a houseful of kids. In many respects, that mirrored my own childhood home.

How times have changed!

My wife Sarah recently reconnected with her long lost brother. It has been wonderful to see the two of them rebuilding a relationship after decades apart. Last summer, we trekked to Washington, DC to her brother’s wedding. He married into an Afghan family. It was perhaps one of the most beautiful weddings we have ever attended. Though the Muslim traditions were unfamiliar to us both, the celebration of love and family all uniting to support the newly married couple transcends all.

A second trip to the DC area in November found us spending more time with our new extended family. Our nine-hour drive home from this second visit gave me plenty of time to think. And I thought about how life unfolds in ways we never really see coming, and how family is no longer defined by shared DNA.

Shortly after my brain injury, my two oldest sons decided life that was better without Dad. My third son is now part of that club as well. Though I try not to label life events as unfair, this is as close to unfair as it gets. I spent years raising and loving my boys. There were little league games, events at school, years and years of driving them to school – as they weren’t overly fond of the bus.

I was a typical dad raising four sons… until I wasn’t.

Such are the premiums that many of us pay after brain injury. Personalities change dramatically, and many who have known us for their entire lives are unable to roll with the changes. It has taken me many years of hard work and lots of therapy to even begin to accept that my sons may never come back.

As Sarah drove us home from DC last November, I thought about my family as it is today. If you told me years ago that I would have the diverse extended family that I have today, I would have most likely looked at you with skeptical amusement. But fate has seen otherwise. None of my new extended family knows of my past and current challenges as a brain injury survivor. In the spirit of complete honesty, I worked very hard during our last trip to “appear” normal. I spoke less than I normally do – something not easy for a chatterbox like me. I was more mindful of my choices and did the best I could to move through our days in a way that did not reveal my issues.

In the end, when I let go of my preconceptions about how I think my life should be, and do the best I can to appreciate the life that I have been given, my sense of well-being improves, and I can better see that I’ve never had it so good.