My Father

My father, the Stanford University graduate, the retired attorney, the triathlete, the 100-mile cyclist, the church going Lutheran, the intellectual, the photographer, the seven-continent traveler, the beach lover, the high-achiever, a man of integrity, a man with a rare illness.

When I think of my dad, I think all these things.  Anyone who knows my dad would describe him as good-hearted, intelligent, successful, athletic, and a loyal friend.  One of Dad's friends described him as a mix between Beavis Cleaver and the Hulk, both smart and strong.

Ever since I was a little girl, I looked up to my dad and wanted to achieve everything he achieved.  I knew I would go to college, get my Master's Degree, get married, have children, and be a great parent, just like him!

When I was in elementary school my sister, Kim, and I would go to Cathedral Oaks Athletic Club in Santa Barbara, where we would dive into our favorite activity... the pool!  Daddy gave us "alligator rides" where he would swim underwater across the pool, and we would hold onto his back, and shout, "Again!  Do it again, Daddy!  Do it again!"  I have fond memories of spending weekends with my family at the pool.

Daddy encouraged my sister and I in all of our after school activities.  He signed me up for the Santa Barbara Children's Chorus, piano lessons, swim team, tennis lessons, ballet, gymnastics and sailing with the Santa Barbara Sea Shells Association.

He walked me to my first class at Goleta Valley Junior High School where, at the height of 4"11, I was nervous amidst all my towering, pre-pubescent peers.  But with my dad's height of 6'2", I felt safe as he dropped me off at Mr. Slater's math class, first period.

We traveled... everywhere!  Tahiti, Fiji, Bora Bora, Moorea, Europe, Alaska, Hawaii, a road trip across the United States, and another up the east coast.  I was the most blessed girl in the world!

In high school my dad traveled to Reno to watch me compete in the Reno International Jazz Festival with the Dos Pueblos High School Jazz Choir.  He chaperoned a trip our Trinity Lutheran Church high school youth group took to Tijuana, Mexico.  He went to all of my cross-country meets, and watched me several times, play Lady Larkin in the high school musical.  He was also the protective father who made sure the shirts I wore to high school covered my stomach, and he was quite the traditionalist; not liking when I wore flip flops to school.  He was always there to look out for me.

When I went to the University of Denver, Lamont School of music, my freshman year of college, he flew to Denver to watch my recitals, and choir performances.  He and my mom were my biggest fans!  They supported me when I wanted to pursue a degree in music and my dad mentioned once he could see me singing on Broadway.

When I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder my freshman year of college, he flew out to Denver to help me through a difficult time.  After my time in Denver and before I transfered to Westmont College,   my dad had some news for me.  First off, he no longer worked at his law firm, Grokenberger, Smith, and Courtney.  Secondly, he had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease.  Now, my mother's father, my grandfather, whom I called Papa, had passed away from Parkinsons' Disease.  I knew what this meant... a life in a downward spiral.  I was crushed.  How could my dad, the most intelligent, hard working, athletic, healthy man I knew, suddenly be diagnosed with this horrible illness?  It was so unfair.

Skipping ahead about six years, Dad and Mom had just come back from a summer trip to Hawaii.  My dad was in the garden, pruning the roses, when he told me he had something important to tell me.  His diagnosis had changed.  "What is it?"  I inquired.  He told me he had Multiple System Atrophy.  I had no clue what this was.  He said the prognosis was not good.  I internally began to freak out inside.  After researching Multiple System Atrophy, and learning it was a degenerative, orphan disease, and a rare neurological disorder, with a 6-8 year prognosis, I began to weep.  No.  This was not happening.  My father did not have this.  He couldn't have this.  But he did.

The symptoms had begun far before this point.  The worst side effect is extremely stuttered speech to the point where language is nearly incomprehensible.  Other side effects include loss of fine motor movement, the inability to write, shuffled steps, loss of balance when walking backwards, the inability to urinate, the inability to stop a motion once started, such as scratching his head, sleep apnea, and lack of expression in his face amongst other side effects.

My dad assured me he would not give up and he would fight this disease.  Since then, there have been some discrepancies as to whether or not he has Multiple System Atrophy (MSA) (formerly known as Shy-Drager Syndrome), or Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP), in which the prognosis is a few years shorter.  There is understandable frustration in our family and questions to God about "why?"

My dad and I did not always see eye to eye.  He could have a quick temper and we had disagreements.  After his diagnosis, we became much closer.  I had much more compassion for my dad, my eyes were opened to how short life is, and how arguing was not worth it, especially with limited years ahead.  One thing Dad told me was that the hardest thing for him would be, if Kim and I were to have children in the future, he would not be able to know his grandchildren in a way where they knew him as himself, not plagued by this disease.  I have only seen my dad cry three times in my life.  This was the third time.  I tried my best to reassure Dad, knowing that the future was unknown.

As I moved Orange County to start graduate school, pursuing my Masters in clinical psychology: marriage and family therapy, it has been more difficult to communicate with Dad.  We have a difficult time communicating on the phone.

There was a elementary school reunion in October 2010, with my dad as the guest of honor.  Many people came to celebrate the life of my dad, Rami Courtney, and my dad said he felt overwhelmed and showered with love that day far beyond his imagination.  I sang "Hallelujah," with one of his friends that day, and we all celebrated my wonderful father's life.

My mom is currently the breadwinner of the family, and an extraordinary and strong woman who both works and cares for my dad.

Although I'm not a Broadway singer and Bipolar Disorder is still a battle, I know my dad's love for me and for life is unceasing.  I know God has His hand over our family and carries us through the hardships.  My dad is and always will be one of the strongest people I know.  He is my father, the one who raised me, loves me, and looks out for me.  I will continue to love him and look out for him for the rest of his life, and know that this illness does not define him.  Continue to be strong, Dad.  I love you!

With all the love in the world,

Your Kelly