Married half a man!
Leanne saw beyond disability
Thursday 21st August 2008
Mornings were always hectic in our house. So as I hurried into the kitchen in my dressing gown, it was a relief to see a mug of hot coffee waiting for me on the kitchen table, and my 14-year-old son, Clayton, already tucking into his Weetabix. And it was all thanks to my husband, John, 38. As I took a gulp of coffee, he was dashing about like mad as usual.
'Clayton's had his breakfast,' he said. 'Don't forget I'm flying out to Sydney for that conference and I'll be back tomorrow.'
With that, he gave me a quick goodbye kiss and raced to the door.
'Bye, Dad!' Clayton shouted.
'Love you both!' John yelled, as the door slammed shut.
John and I had been married for three-and-a-half years, but I was constantly amazed by him, always on the go, juggling a million things at once, while still being a brilliant dad and husband. He was a successful conference speaker, but if he wasn't flying here, there and everywhere for his job, he was playing catch with Clayton. Truth be told, his energy and enthusiasm was what had attracted me to John in the first place. Well, that and those big, brown eyes and strong, manly jaw. And no, I wasn't the slightest bit bothered that he's only half a man.
That's right, if you saw him from the waist up, say sitting at a desk, he'd look like any other bloke. But under the desk, there's nothing. No thighs. No knees. No legs. Nothing. Although John had been a friend of the family for years, we'd first been introduced two years earlier at my mum Dorothy's house in Queensland, Australia. John had fascinated us with his stories and enthusiasm, and I'd fancied him straight away. And anyway, I'd learned to see past disabilities, because Clayton had been born with cerebral palsy, autism and hydrocephalus, or water on the brain.
Since I'd split with his dad, I'd had to cope alone. Clayton had amazed doctors by managing to walk without a wheelchair, and going to a mainstream school. I'd seen how his disability had made him a stronger person and, as far as I could tell, it had done exactly the same for John. When he'd finished entertaining everyone with his stories at Mum's house that day, we'd sat down for a cuppa together. I'd heard through Mum about John's situation, but hearing him talking about it was extraordinary.
'When I was born, my legs weren't properly formed and neither was the base of my spine,' he said. 'My legs were completely useless, so in July 1987, when I was 17, I had them amputated.'
'That must have been a tough decision,' I said.
'Well, they were just getting in the way,' he grinned.
Still, you must be wondering how John coped without his legs. I know I was. When he told me he lived on his own and instead of relying on a wheelchair, he found it easier to get around on his hands, I was impressed.
'But how do you go to the loo?' I asked eventually.
It wasn't part of my usual chat-up technique, but I just had to know.
Luckily, John found it funny.
'Same as everyone else,' he said. 'Except I have to sit down. At least it means I never leave the seat up.'
Well, there was a reason to go out with him if ever I heard one! So I did, and the more I learned about John, the more I liked him. Instead of setting him back, John's disability had propelled him into achieving more than any able-bodied man I knew. He could drive an adapted car, played table tennis and cricket at top level, and held down a job as a successful businessman. John lived at the other end of the country, in Sydney, but after our first meeting, he'd phone every day for a chat, and he was always sending flowers and notes.
He'd visit as often as he could and I looked forward to seeing him. But before I fell too hard in love, I knew I had to get the OK from someone special. Clayton. He'd met John when I had and they'd really hit it off, but I needed to know Clayton accepted him as my boyfriend. So in May 2002, just a few months after we met, I invited John round for an introduction.
'Hi,' Clayton said, looking John up and down.
I'd tried my best to bring him up to accept people for who they were, not how they looked.
And, thankfully, it seemed to have paid off, because Clayton and John were soon chatting
away about the football, and within an hour, they were in the back garden playing a game of catch. So the deal was sealed and, in June 2002, John moved from his home in Sydney to live with us in Queensland. But while Clayton was over the moon, my friends were worried.
'You've got so much to cope with already caring for Clayton,' one of them said. 'Are you sure this John will make you happy?'
I knew they were just looking out for me and, on paper, I suppose John didn't exactly sound like the world's greatest catch. But as soon as they met him, they could see he was funny, kind, caring and very romantic. He proved that a few months after he moved in.
'I've booked a limo to take us for a dirty weekend on the Gold Coast,' he grinned.
When we got to our hotel and I saw the huge bed, covered in rose petals, I felt like a loved-up schoolgirl again.
That night was amazing, and while I don't want to go into too much detail, I will tell you that even though John's legs weren't there, everything else was working fine. As our trip drew to a close, I'd never been so happy.
'Do you need us to make any changes to the house?' I asked when we got back.
I wanted John to feel at home.
'No,' he said. 'Everything's fine.'
I was dubious, but John proved me wrong and got around the house just fine on a skateboard and an office chair with the back removed. Living with him, I quickly learned that he's so determined, if he wants something, he'll never give up, no matter if it's teabags from a high shelf or my hand in marriage. Good job really, because he had to ask a fair few times.
'When the time's right,' I said, when he proposed the first time.
It wasn't that I didn't love him. I was mad about the bloke. But we each had a failed marriage behind us, and I had to be sure for Clayton as much as anything else. I should have known John wouldn't give up until he got me, though. And by September 2004, it felt like the right time to say yes.
Just as I'd expected, Clayton was over the moon when I told him. By now, he and John had
got so close that he'd started to call him Dad.
'No time to waste,' John said in his usual go-getting fashion.
Seeing my two men in cahoots about the big day gave me an idea.
'You two plan the wedding,' I said.
Over the next few days, there was a lot of whispering that stopped when I came in the room.
'You're planning everything except the dress…' I added.
But even that didn't stop me dreading what they'd come up with. So, when they proudly announced a black-and-white gangster theme, I was relieved. And two months later, when the big day arrived, a huge silk-lined marquee filled our back garden, filled with family and friends.
'This is amazing,' I said, walking down the aisle in my white dress with black embroidery.
'I'm glad you like it,' John said, as I stood next to him. He was on a table covered in a white sheet so we were the same height. Wearing a black-and-white striped waistcoat and white trousers that had been specially made so they stopped just beneath his bum, he looked so handsome. Clayton was standing next to him in a matching outfit.
'I love you so much,' John whispered, as the ceremony finished.
'I love you, too,' I gulped.
But it wasn't all tears. We had a lot of fun, too. Finally, we were a real family. So forget 'other half', as far as I'm concerned, John really is my better half, in more ways than one!