Woohoo, Billy is back : ) I asked Billy to write a blog post and expected something hilarious as usual, but instead he wrote something that touched my heart and made me cry. It’s as brutally honest as his other posts, but more emotional and from the heart.
My Father’s Son
Something special, a father and son are bonded by more than gender and genes. It consumes me. I love all four of my children equally, but Tyson and I have a different connection. Its not love or favoritism, its a bond. It cannot be compared to anything as it would lessen the significance of our link to one another. I believe it grew stronger the day we found out that he was not “normal”. Normal… $#@* you. God delivered our children exactly as he planned and Tyson has made our family better and stronger.
We used to cater to Tyson because of his CAS (Childhood Apraxia of Speech) Disorder. I felt like, as a father I had somehow let him down. I didn’t speak to him enough or engage with him enough to stimulate an important learning period in his life. From what I’ve read and learned, every parent feels this guilt… This overwhelming guilt of “I should have done more.” I prayed and prayed for God to give me the answers, tell me what to do and I’ll do it, tell me something, anything. Tell me why this has happened to me, and in that moment I had found the answer. This didn’t happen to me. This had happened to Tyson. This was his fight.
My father, Billy Joe Pierce Sr. passed away Labor Day of 2014 and left me a wreck. Lost. Abandoned. I had looked to him for advice at every stage in my life. I think about how much I love my son and how much he must have loved me. I reflect on the times I hurt, struggled, felt like life was not being fair and how he let me …Wow, the strength it took to want to fight every battle for me, but instead stand aside. He loved me unconditionally, gave me the encouragement to overcome and taught me what perseverance meant. He knew me. He knew my heart. As late as my father was to every event in my life, he was always on time. In his passing, the roots of our bond continue to grow. I’ve planted these roots into my son now. Tyson will hurt and I will love him, he will struggle and I will encourage him, he will feel like life isn’t fair and I will teach him to persevere.
This is a fight, this is YOUR fight Tyson. I cannot intervene, I can’t tell Apraxia that you have had enough. There are no magic buttons or letters to be written that will make this go away, but I can support you. I can give you the tools to succeed. I can show you that our bond cannot be broken by any words or lack of. Daddy’s right here. I will always be right here.