One of the many "inabilities" that was pointed out in the early years of my daughter's rehabilitation, was the fact that she could not stand on her right leg and jump on one foot. Year after year, it was checked and year after year it was pointed out that she couldn't do it. 

At the time, I was painfully aware of what other kids her age could and were supposed to do—especially since her assessments continuously focused on the abilities that the stroke had taken away as opposed to what was, or might, be possible. So, learning to jump on her right foot was one of the many things that I worked on with her. At the park, in her room, in front of the TV, I held her as I encouraged her to lift her left foot off the ground and try to balance on her right leg. 

But, try as she might, it was very difficult for her to even just stand on her right leg, let alone try to jump. And, the muscles in her foot and leg were so tight that she couldn't easily bend them. So, being able to then bend, balance and jump, did seem impossible. Balancing alone remained a major challenge let alone ever achieving any kind of lift-off. Still, for a long time, I tried just the same. I figured that if I didn't try, then she certainly would never learn to do it and if I did, then at least there was a slight possibility of it happening. 

As she got older and the other little girls in the neighbourhood skipped along on the sidewalk as young girls like to do, my daughter would skip too. But she skipped on the left leg only and then took a step with the right one. It was lop-sided but it didn't matter. She was with her friends, she was happy, she felt good about herself and she was skipping in her own way. 

As a result, I eventually abandoned the project of overcoming that particular "inability". In part, because with time, I gained a little more perspective. Really, aside from maybe mimicking Fred Flintstone stubbing his toe and yelling, "yaba-daba-daiai-aiai" as I sometimes did when I was a child back in the seventies, or trying to hold a pose while playing Twister in someone's "rec room" as we called it back then, how many times have I actually jumped on one foot in my lifetime?  And, of those instances, how many times was it absolutely necessary that I jump on one foot as opposed to moving in some other way? I can’t think of a single instance. 

So, perhaps my daughter was assessed as incapable of jumping on her right foot. But, she is capable of a great number of things, including skipping, even if it is a bit different. And, she is capable of making friends and enjoying a summer day—which is even more important.