Growing up in a household ( household includes aunts, uncles, cousins etc) of old European standard proved to be ever difficult for me. Some where along the way I became touchy, feely, with a quick smile. I am not sure what caused this change, but it happened. The first and almost only word from my grandfather was a short, loud 'HEY!' I jumped every time I heard it. I never heard the typical comments of 'my how you have grown', or 'come and give me a bit of honey' or 'how I love you.' Just heard the hey. After some time had pass, I learned to have fun with the hugging. I loved running up to a stoic aunt and give them a big hug. Each time it was the same; a grunt, a closing up of the limbs-I think this movement was a protectin of body contact, a gentle pushing away, a comment of aa ah ah ah nice to see you my boy. I have heard the words from male relatives;'I am not into that touchy stuff, I like a firm hand shake, or the chest is blowing out-again I think to prevent to much contact-.' Often you would get the "eye", the eye that penetrates to the bone. I always felt that the 'eye' was a warning, however it is a way of seeing who you are. Today I use this "eye." It can cause discomfort to some, but it is a way of understanding that person. The "eye" as I have come to understand, was a way of not making you feel uncomfortable, but it was the families' way of a hug.

I often wondered why was I so different from the rest of the family? Why were my emotions so close to the top? I can hear a point and it will have a big impact with my feelings. I can hear a song or a music piece and I am move strongly. I can watch a movie and cry. It got to the point when my boys are with me, I am sure they had bets on when the first tear would fall. I can see them leaning out from their seat, watching, watching, ever watching.

Now that I have grown some what older, I now know why. I know why I love to hug, to show emotion, to touch another. For a long time I tried to push it away. Why is it we try so hard to be something that we are not? This denial is akin to holding a finger in the dike. The pressure of suppressed feelings will eventually be too great, and the toll will show up somewhere;in anxiety, depression, or numbness, diminished performance on the job, a marriage that blows up, even physical illness.
With my illness it is hard to face my deep emotions, even healthy, we all refuse to accept who and what we have become. We often lack deep roots, firm beliefs and compelling values. We are easily buffeted by the prevailing winds. If we lack a strong sense of purpose we cannot hold our ground when we are challenged by life's inevitable storms. Instead, we react defensively, blaming the storm or simply disengaging and ceasing to invest our energy. Not until I started to fight this disease did I realize that I am a product of not just one side of the family but also from another side who were not afraid to show emotions. I have learned so much in these last few years, being force to stay still for long periods of time, time to think, and that I am like my dad. I am like my dad. What an honor to be like my dad, one who is always there. I only hope that my sons will in time feel the same about me. As I grow older and will face further deterioration of my body the thought of being my dad is a great comfort to me. It allows me to put a foot at a time in front of me, just a step at a time. With a wink and a nod, HeWal