Disabled Parent Gratitude: What My Son Taught Me About Strength and Thankfulness
This November, as we count our blessings, I find myself reflecting not just on what I have but on what my family has become. Life as a dad who uses a wheelchair isn’t always easy, yet it’s full of lessons I never expected. 
My son Jacob is 13, and this year, I’m most thankful for how he sees the world. That kind of perspective—what I like to call Disabled Parent Gratitude—runs deep in our home.
Together with his mom, Rachel, we’ve built a rhythm of inside jokes, quick nicknames, and small victories that only we understand.
When I see Jacob’s happiness and his quiet love for history, I’m reminded that success isn’t measured by mobility—it’s measured by spirit.
The Hidden Curriculum of Disability
Jacob’s real education in accessibility doesn’t come from a classroom. Instead, he learns it at home. Every day, he notices the ramp angle, checks the battery life, and reads the hesitation in a stranger’s eyes. Yet he handles it all with humor and grace.
He’s developed a unique lens—a superpower, really. Kids who grow up with parents who have disabilities often see the world differently. They notice attitudes toward disability and combine that awareness with their own reality. Rather than seeing a dad in a wheelchair, Jacob sees a dad using a wheelchair to get things done. That difference changes everything. No textbook can teach what he learns from that daily experience.
Jacob’s learned that accessibility means preparing for the unexpected .
Molding Grit, Not Granting Wishes
It’s tempting to think great kids are simply lucky. But Jacob’s outlook didn’t appear out of nowhere—it was shaped by what he’s seen and lived.
Think of it like sitting at a pottery wheel. My hands may not be perfect, thanks to Cerebral Palsy, but I’m still shaping him every day. Sure, a few sarcastic traits might have slipped in, but the result is solid.
Jacob’s watched me get stuck and figure it out—using my chair, my walker, or plain stubborn determination. He’s also seen us adapt to barriers, advocate for access, and keep going when things get tough. Each moment taught him that effort builds strength.
That’s the true foundation of his resilience. We didn’t just tell him to persevere—we showed him what it looks like.
This Thanksgiving, Remember You’re a Badass Parent
My message this Thanksgiving isn’t only about being proud of our kids. It’s also about being thankful for the perspective we give them. Our children don’t succeed despite our challenges—they succeed because of the example we set.
Parenting is tough for everyone. Parenting with limited mobility, however, takes it to another level. It’s like trying to parallel park a bus with one arm tied behind your back. It requires skill, patience, and grit.
So this year, look in the mirror and say, “I’m a badass mom or dad.” Then, take a moment to appreciate yourself. Be thankful for your amazing kids, of course—but also for your ability to mold them into compassionate, capable humans. That perspective is the greatest gift of all.
