There is a thought-provoking article on this year’s ISAD conference about chronic sorrow. It is a personal story written by Scott Palasik. He shares how he found out that his parents, especially his mother, blamed themselves for his stuttering and carried around an enormous amount of guilt for many years.

I commented on Scott’s paper and we wound up sharing back and forth about how we had similar parent stories. I highly recommend you read Scott’s story – it resonated with me and I am sure it will with a lot of you.

I have written about guilt on here before, but not in the way that Scott’s poignant story reminded me. I know my mother has carried around a lot of guilt for many, many years. She has told me she feels tremendous guilt for what we dealt with as children. She is an alcoholic, and proudly in recovery now. She helps many, many people who have been touched by alcoholism.

She didn’t achieve sobriety until I was in my late teens. Childhood was chaotic, because mom drank all the time. We tried to act like everything was ok, but it wasn’t. My siblings and I covered for her all the time. Covertly, much like my stuttering became. My mother and I have had some conversations about the impact alcoholism had on all our lives, but those have been strained, quick, clipped.

But we have NEVER talked about stuttering. NEVER. The few times I have tried, she has always quickly changed the subject. I learned from a sister, or maybe even in a hurried conversation with my mother (I don’t remember), that she always felt guilty that she didn’t stand up to my father and insist that I be allowed to participate in speech therapy.

I have often wondered what a heart-felt conversation about stuttering would be like with one of my parents. Because I have never talked with my father about it either. I have always wanted to know what they thought. Were they confused? Did they know it was stuttering? Were they embarrassed? Were they ashamed? (Like I have thought!)

Was it easier for them to pretend there was nothing wrong? Did anyone ever talk to them about it? What did the relatives think? Why was it kept so hush-hush? Was it that bad?

Have any of you ever thought about any of this?