My story starts, like many stories of those dealing with traumatic brain injury, with the tragedy of
a serious accident that rocked the foundations of a family. A near fatal car accident gave my
mother brain damage that devastated her mobility, robbed her of her speech, singing voice,
education, and any memory of or affection for my father. After less than one year of marriage,
my mother woke up in the hospital and asked incredulously, “who is this man, and why is he
trying to touch me? Get him away!”
I personally, however, would not become part of this story for more than five years after this
accident. My parents were married in 1976 and I was introduced in 1982, making my first
appearance in a hospital in Dallas, TX on the first day of 1983.
The back story, a story for another day and perhaps for others to tell, is a story of a family
suffering in the wake of a traumatic, unexpected accident that dramatically and devastatingly
restructured the family’s direction and internal relationships.
The pain and suffering of the victim and family is so immediate and overwhelming that it is hard
if not impossible, to see beyond it. I, however, was born into this family blissfully unaware of the
catastrophe that that shaped the world I came into.
Between the car accident and my birth, my mother relearned how to walk, to care for herself, to
cook, and even to drive. She did relearn how to speak, but her pronunciation was still limited
and to this day, few people can understand her clearly. She also, starting from scratch,
relearned to love and trust my father. They continued on their journey of marriage, although on a
completely different path than had been expected.
I have many stories of trials and conflict in the family that have been shared with me by my
father, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Those stories were told to me with the emotion of those
who experienced the events firsthand, often through tears and sometimes with visible frustration
at the memories of uncertainty and friction.
My story, however, is a story of hope. What I saw was a mother who loved me and a family
united in support of my mother and family (in hindsight, they hid the disputes and frustration
from the kids well).
It wasn’t always easy. Perhaps, sometime I can share the struggles I had going through my
teenage years as I became more aware of my mother’s disabilities. I might talk about the stress
of feeling responsible to compensate for my mom’s deficiencies that remained from surviving
such a massive brain injury. I might talk about the childish, but very real embarrassment I felt
that my mom “wasn’t normal” and the desire to hide her “abnormality” from others. I could share
the anger I felt that she couldn’t do things that other moms could, or talk the way other moms
talked. Those struggles significantly affected who I am today, but they do not capture the central
theme of the story I am living.
In spite of the debilitating accident, my mother gave birth naturally to five children and nursed us
all. Her sense of time has never been the same as before the accident, but she managed to
make meals for us at regular times and to get us to the places we needed to go on time, more
or less. She and my father homeschooled all five of us all the way through high school, and we
all graduated from college or university and are currently successful, contributing members of
society.
I only mention this point because it was a struggle. Many people doubted my mother’s capacity
to take care of a household while my father was at work. Sure, she survived and fell in love with
my father (again), but managing a household? That seemed risky, and even irresponsible to
some. What made all this possible was simply dedication to Christ, to His community, and the
raw determination to make these things happen.
I asked my father about her personality before the accident and if it was the same now as it was
before. “No” was his simple reply. To me, her personality is the personality of the woman who
raised me. She is just “Mom”, but to those who knew her before she is a different person now.
Those who experience a personality change in someone they love due to brain injury may feel
they lost someone, or a part of someone, whom they love. I however, having arrived a little later
in the story, see the person who shaped me to be the person God is using now. My mother’s
stubbornness, flippancy about social norms, willingness to do and try new things in spite of
difficulty, and willingness to share her opinions regardless of who want’s to hear them, are all
characteristics I’ve learned from her nurturing over the years. For better or worse, these
characteristics are a part of me and I don’t feel robbed of anything by the accident. I know I
wouldn’t be who I am today without that tragedy coming before me.
I spent the better part of 10 years working in China and I know I wouldn’t be the adaptable,
stubbornly adventurous person I am that enabled me to meet that challenge without her
personality and teaching as it is now, post accident.
I remember when my family was in China just before my youngest son was to be born. My
mother expressed willingness to come help with the kids and help around the house to take
care of things while we were in the hospital and my wife was recovering and nursing a newborn.
Due to her mobility, memory and communication issues we knew she couldn’t travel alone so
we arrange for family to travel to and from China with her. When she arrived, we tried to make
things as easy as we could so that she could function well in this new and unfamiliar
environment. One difficulty was the fact that restaurants would only have chopsticks to eat with.
I told my wife, “please make sure you have a clean fork in your purse for her when we go out.” I
felt there is no reason to force a woman in her 60’s with mobility issues to learn how to use
chopsticks. The first night out we quickly produced the fork and said, “don’t worry, Mom, we got
you a fork. You don’t need to worry about the chopsticks.” She looked around and asked, “are
they all using chopsticks?” I told her yes. “Are you using chopsticks?” she asked. I said yes but
explained that we lived here and those folks around us were locals and used chopsticks since
they were children. “If they can use them, and you can use them, then chopsticks are fine for
me too,” was her final response.
What our family is now has been affected by an incredibly violent accident that nearly killed my
mother to be. Our family is nothing like what it would have been if that tragedy hadn’t occurred.
And yet, what God has done is better than what anyone could have foreseen, especially by
those who were drowning in the sorrow and anguish of losing the daughter, sister, and wife that
they had known. No one could see what God had planned while drowning in the medical issues,
therapy, mental changes, and future uncertainty. Yet, it was there. It was there the whole time.
Hope.
– Josh Williams