Dedicated Dad Opens Daughter?’s World
They are a familiar and touching sight along Alabama and Zarthan near Holy Family School?—the round-faced little red-haired girl in leg braces taking tentative steps forward, her father slowly walking backwards with her hands in his. For Bob Waligora and Maggie, that simple walk around the block represents years of work and hope.
Maggie was born 13 years ago with severe retardation and hypotonia?—extremely weak muscles. Bob and his wife Liz knew something was wrong, because Maggie?’s development was so much slower than that of her sister Annie, who is four years older. It took doctors months to figure out that baby Maggie?’s trachea was collapsing because of the hypotonia. For eighteen months, Maggie breathed with the aid of a trachea tube and a respirator.
When Maggie was 3 years old, Bob began teaching her to walk, using parallel bars in the dining room. ?“The doctors told us to do anything we could to stimulate her muscles,?” Bob recalls. ?“Walking makes all the difference in the world. It strengthens bones and muscles, and keeps her active. And it gives her experiences she?’d never have otherwise.?”
Bob and Maggie walk around their block five days a week, weather permitting. When the weather is crummy, they head to the high school or Knollwood Mall to walk. Every other day, Bob tapes the wires of an electrical neuromuscular stimulator to her legs?—the impulses help strengthen her muscles. On the days she doesn?’t use the device, Bob holds just one of her hands as she walks. Bob appreciates the friendliness of his Sorensen neighbors, from cheery greetings, to letting them rest on their lawns, to the stranger who gave Maggie a toy one day.
While Bob acknowledges ?“everything is uphill for her,?” the Waligoras have seen Maggie make huge progress over the years. Although Maggie will never be able to walk unassisted or feed herself, she can sit up. She rides the bus to the Special Education program at Alice Smith Elementary in Hopkins. She enjoys playing with the toys in a special play center Bob built for her, complete with a disco mirror ball, bubbling tube of plastic fish, and multi-colored spinning light ball. And Maggie loves to swim, watch children play, and laugh at the trucks zooming past on Highway 7. ?“There are a million things she will never learn to do,?” Bob says, ?“but we learned to appreciate everything she can do.?”
Bob is upfront about what family life is like with a severely disabled child. Because he and Liz?—an admission representative at Fairview Hospital?—usually work opposite shifts, they don?’t have much time together. Annie has had to cope with getting much less attention than her sister. A rare family vacation to Disney World?—planned because Maggie loves Mickey Mouse?—flopped when Maggie was so overwhelmed that she kept her head down the whole time.
Bob explains, ?“Someone once told me that it?’s like everyone else went to Italy, and you went to Holland. Holland isn?’t bad, but it?’s no Italy. That?’s what life is like with a severely disabled child. You wind up feeling every bump of their illness?—you have to worry about a lot more stuff.?”
Bob?’s work with Maggie has led to a career change. Bob, who has a degree in journalism, has been commuting to St. Cloud State for two years to get a license as a Special Education teacher for developmentally cognitively delayed (DCD) children. He just began a teaching job at Metcalf Junior High in Burnsville. He works weekdays and commutes to St. Cloud on Saturdays. He should complete his program this coming summer.
Bob feared, when he first started teaching Maggie to walk, that she would give up trying?—as some children do?—as she grew and gained weight. ?“Now my hope for her is that we?’ll someday be able to walk around Lake Harriet.?”