Fernando's journey

Before the accident, I thought I knew what it meant to be a father. But afterward? When I couldn't go to work and draw a paycheque? I can't even sit up straight enough to hammer a nail into a wall. If I don't prop myself up all the time, I fall over like a noodle.

Aren't dads supposed to stand tall in front of their children? That's what my father did. Dads are there to protect and provide. How could I do any of that for Taryn?

Real fathers, I used to think, could not be needy or vulnerable. But now I'm completely dependent on this wheelchair, a bunch of meds and an army of specialists. I ask myself, What kind of father is that?

What I must do to be a good dad for Taryn is to not let this wheelchair get between us.

Initially I thought, How will I change her diaper, get her out of the crib, teach her how to ride a bike, give her piggybacks when she's tired at the beach? Will we ever swim together like when I used to take her for lessons Saturday mornings when she was just six months old? Now I realize that those physical activities do not matter.

Taryn and I still live our lives together to the fullest, and we have lots of love, in whatever shape that comes. As a result of the accident, I get to spend far more time with her than the average dad. Also, because I can't walk, we swim together a lot and I get to play with Taryn at her level. She and I are always tumbling about on the floor. Even if I wanted to, I can't walk away from our childlike frolicking, so I get more facetime with Taryn. The way I see it, not being able to scamper away and do adult things allows me to enjoy opportunities for closeness with my child that too many parents miss. I know how quickly her little-girl days are passing. I can appreciate these moments perhaps more than other parents.

Also, my disability is not so severe that I can't attend her school activities. I wheel beside her over to the public school near our house. Reading to her is always a joy; she can climb onto my lap for cuddling and I can take her for one final fast spin around the house before bedtime. As for the future, I'm certainly not going to discourage Taryn from doing risky things. My involvement as her dad goes much deeper. What I have to do for Taryn is keep moving ahead.

Read more: Be a better dad.

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