Reflections On a Journey Living With a Disability

By Brian J. Woznicki

I know this sounds a bit cliche, but life truly is a journey. It evidences as a unique sojourn for every individual person. This is the story of a child born seventy years ago. It is a story of triumph and setbacks, of joy and sorrow, of weakness and strength. But most of all, it is a story of courage. Brian J. Woznicki was born with cerebral palsy. He was dealt a very difficult hand in life. This is the tale of his determination, the strong support of his parents and friends, his experiences with the Boy Scouts of America, his education, family, and friends, and his great gift of intelligence.

Brian's life is pregnant with lessons of courage, strength, authenticity, and love. However, it is also a tale of significant lapses in judgment, weakness, and vulnerability. Running through it all is the strong cord of Brian's Roman Catholic faith, which has seen him fall from grace with a great collapse and helped him regain his posture of goodness and love to regain the moral high ground.

Brian's life shows living evidence of Nietzsche's assertion: "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." His life is a roller-coaster ride. I suggest you fasten your seat belts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798890618412

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1: Time of Birth and Early Education

Chapter 2: Scouting, a Lifelong Passion

Chapter 3: Homelife and the Program

Chapter 4: Earning Eagle Scout

Chapter 5: Scouting beyond the Troop

Chapter 6: The Pool and One Weekend in Avalon

Chapter 7: Changing Education, Valley Forge Trail, Getting Stuck

Chapter 8: A Yes That Affirms

Chapter 9: College Search

Chapter 10: An Irish Connection

Chapter 11: Gentleness Needed

Chapter 12: My College Experience

Chapter 13: Venturing Out, Finding Resources

Chapter 14: Work with the Archdiocese

Chapter 15: Devon Prep and the Academy of Notre Dame

Chapter 16: A Weekend at LBI

Chapter 17: Photographs

Chapter 18: Janine's Graduation Gift

Chapter 19: Church Connections

Afterword

About the Author

cover.jpg

Reflections On a Journey Living With a Disability

Brian J. Woznicki

Copyright © 2024 Brian J. Woznicki

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89061-840-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-841-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

With Heartfelt Thanks

Father G. Dennis Gill, for taking early dictation

Sister Mary Jude Adams, for transcribing the early text

Garrett Woznicki, for his ongoing moral support

Donald Weise, for his expert help with the final text

Tara Woznicki, for her excellent cover art

Author's Note

I am a sixty-nine-year-old man with physical disabilities. This book is a collection of stories about my life. They are told through a definite Catholic lens, with no small dose of Boy Scouting experience.

I am writing these stories for persons with disabilities, their families, their caregivers, and anyone who cares to read them.

I hope that these stories will, at once, be both entertaining and instructive and that persons with disabilities might find in these pages a source of motivation.

Chapter 1

Time of Birth and Early Education

On the last day of 1953, my mother went to the hospital to give birth to me. She had a normal pregnancy with good care from our family doctor. All seemed well. Our family doctor had started a specialized practice a few months before and turned Mom's care over to another doctor.

During the birthing process, commotion started in the delivery room. All was not well. Realizing this, Mom started asking, Is the baby baptized? Is the baby baptized? A Catholic nurse attending the birth assured Mom that she had baptized the baby. Babies are usually baptized within a few weeks of birth. Mom was concerned that I might not live, so she wanted me to get baptized.

When Mom was back in her hospital room, it was explained to her and Dad that the umbilical cord preceded my body through the birth canal. This made for a short period when my brain did not get enough blood and oxygen. Mom and Dad were told that my physical development would be slow. What only became apparent in the months and years to follow was this prolapsed cord birth had caused me to have cerebral palsy, a lifelong, debilitating condition.

I was kept in the hospital for a full week after my birth to make sure I was strong and that there were no other problems. Mom went home, but she, Dad, and other family members visited me daily. Mom often recalled how I stood out from the premature infants with whom I shared the ward. I stood out in that my body was more fully developed than the bodies of other babies in the ward.

I have little doubt that prayers were offered nonstop for my well-being during this week. Mom and Dad had supportive families that offered encouragement and solace during this uncertain time. My aunt Margaret had unwavering devotion to Our Lady and the rosary. It's likely she set a world record for rosaries prayed during that week. Dad, who really enjoyed smoking a pipe, promised our Lord that he would stop smoking if my life was spared. It was, and he did.

It may seem odd, but the one place Mom first noticed a lack of physical development was in my buttocks. They just did not have the muscle mass that they should. Mom's response was to massage them. In fact, massage and stretching my limbs were two activities Mom made part of my daily routine. One of my earliest memories is of Mom massaging me while singing a hymn to St. Joseph, my baptismal patron. It seems caring for me was about all Mom did in my early years. But that's not true. She kept our modest home spotless, prepared meals, and looked after Dad as well as my brother, Garry.

The name Garry helps point out limits on the development of my ability to pronounce some words. I could make sounds and say Mama and Dada just fine. But when it came to saying Garry, for the longest time, all that would come out of my mouth was Ga. I remember a feeling of absolute triumph the day I uttered this sequence, Ga, Ga, Ga-Ga, Ga-Ga, Ga-eeee! Anyone who knows me well may well doubt that I ever had trouble speaking. I consider myself quite the conversationalist. I love to talk. What can I say? Mom's parents were born in Ireland. Of the two nationalities, Irish and Polish, the Irish are more talkative.

So where was my dad in all this? Remember, this was in the 1950s. Mom and Dad saw Dad's main role as providing for our family. To his credit, he did an outstanding job in sales of industrial hardware. He was a steady presence in our home. He was generous with his time and talents. He built many things I needed for physical therapy over the years. Dad and I also got very involved in the Boy Scouts when I got older. Dad made a tremendous time investment in scouting activities. This helped give me unique opportunities. I will say much more about scouting and its impact on my life and overall development later. It seems the Polish are far less gregarious than the Irish. Dad's parents were from Poland. Dad was much more a doer than a talker. Dad just did not talk much.

Being Catholic is very important to me. It is part of the transgenerational legacy given to me by my parents. There was only one brief time in my life when I considered joining another religion. I heard that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Mormons, permitted polygamy. I went to one Mormon service, and I did not feel comfortable. That was the end of my interest in other religions. I am aware of the scandals in the Catholic Church. I think that through misguided charity, the bishops mishandled many situations. I am, and pray I will remain, committed to the Catholic Church because I believe that it is the one, true church founded by Jesus.

Garry went to our parish school, St. Colman, in Ardmore, Pennsylvania. Mom and I would go to meet him every day after school to walk home with him. Mom got talking to the nun who taught kindergarten, Sister Bridgetta. Sister invited Mom to bring me to kindergarten anytime. Mom jumped at the offer and started taking me daily. Mom did not enroll me yet because I was too young. Mom stayed with me in case I needed help of any kind. I welcomed the interaction with kids my own age. There was a large sandbox in the school's yard; playing in it became one of my favorite activities. Clare Kelly, one of my classmates, became a really good buddy of mine. Clare looked out for me at school as well as when we played with other kids back at home. I can't remember anything specific I learned at kindergarten; I just remember I did learn some things and enjoyed learning and being with other kids.

I did not develop normally as a kid. I could not walk, dress, bathe, or feed myself. Mom, Dad, and later Garry shared caregiving activities. I remember feeling very well cared for and comfortable. Mom made sure I was well groomed—teeth, hair, and skin—and looked sharp, clothes clean and neat.

Cerebral palsy is a term that refers to disabilities caused by brain damage. For me it meant that I could not walk, my speech was slurred, and I needed help with all activities.

This may seem odd, but I never thought about how caregiving might take a toll on Mom, Dad, and Garry They did it with such love, it seemed practically effortless. They learned to care for me intuitively. What a nurturing environment this was for a kid with physical issues.

There are parts of my development that my cerebral palsy did not affect. My appetite was one of them. Mom served up a basic diet of meat, potatoes, vegetables, grains, and fruits, and I ate it up. Sweets were permitted, but in moderation. We always had dinner as a family. It was a time to hear everyone's news of the day. We usually had a main course and