In nineteen seventy-five, Elias Michael School held its first (and to my knowledge) only prom for high school students. Quite a big deal. It was held at an American Legion Hall. The hall was donated by the father of one of the students.
I had to ask someone to go with me. But who? I decided, with some coaxing from my mom, to call the brother of a young girl who was also disabled. Their parents were friends of ours. I nervously made the call. There was hesitation in his voice when I asked him if he'd go with me. I actually heard his father, in the background, telling him to take me. That should have been a sign to me that the evening would not go well.
The two things my date enjoyed about the evening were getting to drive my mom's car and the food that was served. We had nothing in common. He didn't like the band at the prom. He told me he preferred classical music. He didn't try to have fun. At eleven o'clock I asked him if I could go to be with my friends. He stayed at our table. The dance ended at midnight. I had fun for about an hour. The night was awful for both of us. I almost titled this post," A Night to Forget."
Everyone was so surprised I had a date. The teachers couldn't get over it. Their reaction made me feel self-conscious. As if I was too much of a nerd to get anyone to agree to take me to my prom.
What I remember most is getting ready for the night. My physical therapist, Jo Ann, coming over and doing my hair and makeup. The white dress I wore with the little orange and yellow flowers. My date arrived with a corsage My mom took our picture before we left. In my new dress, with my hair and makeup done, I felt pretty and special. Just like Cinderella.
it's prom season. I wanted to let you know what my experience going to prom was like. If you are a disabled teen girl attending their prom this year, I hope it's a night you'll always remember. A night where you feel a little bit like Cinderella too.
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This blog is meant to inform, entertain, and make readers think. I'm not an authority on disabilities or disability issues. I can only speak about my life experiences having Spastic Cerebral Palsy. I'm sure, if another person with Spastic CP, was asked to share their experiences, they would be totally different from mine. People are different. We all relate to things differently.
I appreciate the positive feedback. I enjoy reading your thoughts and ideas. I am not, however, qualified to offer advice. While I do have a degree in social work I'm not a licensed social worker or therapist.
I have not posted in several weeks because I couldn't think of a topic. I am beginning to have topic ideas. I will try to post. weekly again.
I never realized when I started writing this blog, what a big responsibility it would become. I want to write good thought-provoking posts. I owe that to everyone who reads this blog. Admittedlythat's hard to do.
If you read this blog and relate to something I have said or if a post gives you a new idea you hadn't thought of before, that's great. Nothing I write in this blog is meant to be taken as advice. This blog is just a place for me to express my thoughts and ideas.
March 30, 2010, was the day my life changed forever. That was the day my mom died. I should have posted this on the anniversary of her death. It is not just that day that's hard for me. That day, through Mother's Day, is a difficult time for me.
I wrote the following piece after Mom died. My sister-in-law read it at her funeral for me. I'm proud of it. It shows how committed my mom was to giving me the best life possible.
My mother dedicated her life to me. She was my sole caregiver until the age of eighty-seven. After we had help she was still overseeing everything, making sure my caregivers did everything the right way. We did not get twenty-four-hour help until last August. She was still assisting me at night, by herself, up until that time. Pretty amazing, when you consider she was ninety-one years old.
My mother made sure I didn’t miss out on anything I wanted to do. When I was little I wanted to be in the Girl Scouts. Mom would leave our grocery store to meet my school bus at a stop along the route and take me to my troop meeting. She didn’t want me to be late.
I was in Shriners Hospital for over three months when I was eleven. Mom visited me faithfully. The one day she was unable to visit she sent me a card.
After I graduated Mom drove me to job interviews. When I got a part-time job, she made sure I got there on time every day.
We went on a cruise to Alaska one summer. One of the side trips was flying over Glacier Bay in a little piper cub. I had trouble keeping my balance on the plane. I kept falling over. I was nauseous and scared to death. Mom loved it. She kept saying how beautiful Glacier Bay was. I had to take her word for it. I was too busy praying.
And, how many other eighty-one-year-old women can rock out at a Cher
concert? My mom did.
My mother was my caregiver, cheerleader, my sounding board, and my support system. Without her love and support, I would have accomplished nothing in my life. Thank you, Mom. I love you. I’ll miss you every day.
