Category: Wheelchair

Jesus is Real Y’all

by C.C. Hasty, posted in Blessed, God Is Good, Heaven, Uncategorized, Wheelchair

I love my conversations with Jackson when it is just me and him in the truck. I never know just what we may talk about. Sometimes it is a funny story, others it is just a million questions as kids are subject to do.

Today, he talked to me about his trip to heaven.

I always knew there was more to share than he was ready to talk about the first time he told me he saw Jesus the day of the accident. Today he wanted to talk to me about the details of his trip.

He said that he went up the stairs to heaven. When he got towards the top he started to have a good feeling all over his body, and that is when he saw Jesus. Although he didn’t actually have to talk with his mouth, Jesus told him that he was going to be paralyzed but that he was going to be okay.

He also spoke about how in heaven you could instantly think of things but before you could finish the thought it appeared. Things were instant in heaven, and he knew immediately that being paralyzed meant him being in a wheelchair.

I believe there was more with the experience of “instant thoughts” that make things appear, but he isn’t ready to speak about it, and I don’t push him.  He will share it when he is ready.

He said that coming back to his body was also instant. He was in heaven one minute and he opened his eyes to the paramedics walking with him on the stretcher the next.

We then talked about how blessed he is that God gave him “another life” as he calls it. I am the one blessed, because I get to share my life with this awesome kid!

I am sharing Jackson’s story because I know this is something that God has asked me to do. I pray that his story touches others who need it. If someone was unsure about God and the truth of His word, I pray Jackson’s experience helps them to see just how good God is. If they feel alone, this helps them to know that they are never alone. There is a God who loves them and one day they will be reunited with lost loved ones.

Help me share Jackson’s story by sharing it with others. Tell it to your friends and family. Share it on Facebook and Twitter. Help others know that yes, there is a God and oh man He is GOOD!

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Love and blessings,

C.C.

Field Day

by C.C. Hasty, posted in Blessed, Brothers, Field Day, God Is Good, Uncategorized, Wheelchair

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I will be honest and admit that I was really worried about this day. Jackson, of course, was completely ready and beyond excited about it. We picked out the Powerade’s he wanted to take and his clothes the evening before. In his mind he was going to be able to do everything. It is sometimes hard to imagine how his 7-year-old mind processes things. He has never seen what he can’t do. Only how he CAN do it.

It didn’t take him long to realize just how different this day would be from the two other field days he participated in before. Jackson has always handled his emotions better than even most adults. He processes them slowly and has very little tells to clue you in to what he is thinking. He became quite and put his head in his lap.

As a parent, it is hard to watch. I know what he is feeling. What he is thinking. And I can’t change it. He has been invited to birthday parties that involve physical activity. I hadn’t wanted to face it so we didn’t go.  Jackson runs headlong into everything. I was the one scared. I knew eventually we would have to face this. It was inevitable. And when he whispered to me in his low voice, “I wish I could walk”. All I could say is, “Me too baby.”

The first ribbon someone gave him for just participating, the look on his face broke my heart. I know they were trying to help. They were trying to include him and make him feel special. He saw it for what it was. A ribbon he didn’t earn. I was torn between wanting him to succeed in each event in any way possible, and wanting to push him to earn the ribbon himself. After the egg race he put his head down and whispered to me, “I am a bad boy because I cheated.” Even though he was told to hold the egg while someone pushed his chair, he felt like he cheated by doing so.

Finally, he won a ribbon on his own. Of course, he had to participate in a special way, but this ribbon he DESERVED. Despite the fact that he struggled during each race with what he couldn’t do, he still participated in every single one that he was able. This kid doesn’t let anything stop him. Yes, he struggles sometimes accepting what is. But, he still pushes forward, despite it all.

Although my first reaction when he wanted to go into the bouncy house was to worry about how it could be done and how his body would respond, I quickly replied, “Let’s do it!” He had a blast and the smile on his face was worth my now very sore muscles (they need these things in gyms for adults cause it is a definite workout, let me tell ya).

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I am very thankful that Jackson goes to a school that allows him to try to do everything he can. For a teacher that pushes him. And for an assistant that loves on him when we aren’t there to do so.

And by the time we were on our way home, he was proud of all the awards he had, even those he didn’t earn himself. As he told his brother Joshua with a huge smile on his face, “They gave me all of these ribbons. It’s the good thing about being paralysized.”

Love and blessings,

C.C.

 

And they call me…..

by C.C. Hasty, posted in Blessed, Mom, Uncategorized, Wheelchair

My husband told me several days ago that Jackson asked him if I would get mad if he called me mom. I knew he had been thinking about something along these lines by the questions he had been asking lately. I should start by explaining why Jackson would be contemplating such a thing. We have had full custody of my husband’s three boys for over 4 years. Jackson doesn’t remember a time that he didn’t live with us and our 13-year-old has been calling me mom for a couple of years. When they first moved in, I explained to them that I was not their mom and didn’t ever want to take her place. My name is C.C. and that is what they could call me. When Jacob first starting calling me mom I was concerned. After giving it much thought, I realized that he was old enough to make that choice on his own and needed me to fill the void that he was feeling by his mom not being in his life consistently.

I am explaining this because so many people simply don’t know that our youngest boys are not mine biologically. I treat them as if they are my own. In my heart they are. When my husband and I married, we said vows not to just each other, but to our children as well. The  wedding ceremony was more about showing them through action that we were combining our family together and making commitments not just between husband and wife, but most importantly to them. If you have read any of my previous posts, you will remember that after the accident that Alex pleaded with the paramedics to help his brothers. We are not a blended family. We are family.

I believe that being a mother is about more than just giving birth. Being a mother isn’t the name your children call you. Being a mother is shown by actions. It is a verb. It means taking them to doctor appointments, making them do their homework and brush their teeth. It means teaching them right and wrong. To hold the door open for women and lift the toilet seat when they use the bathroom (let’s be real here). It means sleepless nights when they are sick. Hugs when they need comfort and discipline when they choose to not follow rules. I treat my husbands boys as I would my own, in every possible way. Of course I want them to love me. I want their approval. But I will not and have never been afraid to do what I know in my heart is best for them. My philosophy has always been that they can grow up to hate me and that is okay with me as long as they grow up to be great men. I love them too much to do anything less.

As we were on our way to Vanderbilt today, Jackson finally decided to discuss it with me. Thank God my husband gave me advance notice because I probably would have cried all the way to Nashville and the whole conversation would have been a catastrophe. I explained to him that I would not be upset in the least and that it was his choice to make. I believe that he will continue to call me C.C., simply out of habit. To be honest, it doesn’t really matter. What did matter was that by his question I know that he knows that I love him as a mother should. He knows that even though I am not his biological mother, I have treated him as my son. And at the end of the day, whatever he chooses to call me, that is all that matters.

 

P.S. I know that this is personal and some would perhaps wonder why I choose to share it. There are several reason… First, this blog is about my life and raising our boys after such a tragic event in our lives. Second, I am an open book. I value truth and can’t expect to receive it unless I am willing to give it. Lastly, life is too short to worry about what others think or being afraid to step on toes, so I don’t 🙂

Love and blessings,

C.C.