Only When I Talk

by Bob Hubbert
(Los Lunas, New Mexico 87031)

As a very young child, I often wondered why people looked at me strangely when I talked. Then, one day, I was hurt in an accident. I stumbled into my home, saw my mother sitting among a group of other ladies, and I screamed out for help. I, however, stuttered, and my words were mumbled and broken. My mother, in the mist of a Tupperware party, turned to me and screamed, "Bobby, if you can't talk right, don't talk at all!" The words she spoke confused and shattered me. For the first time in my life, I realized I wasn't normal.

My school years were hard, as most other children made fun of my stutter. I was often called "Porky Pig," and was generally the last to be chosen for teams in sporting events. Eventually, I moved on to high school, and found a wonderful young woman who accepted me for what I was, not how I talked. We were together through graduation.

I was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1966, and again suffered abuse at the hands of those soldiers who did not understand my impediment. I made it through Vietnam, and several different white-collar jobs after I was discharged.

I married, divorced, then married again. I raised two children, then spent 20 years working for the federal government. I fought my stutter all my life, but still found happiness. I am now married to the best woman in the world, have great friends, and appreciate all that I have been given in life. We all have our crosses to bear, even though some are heavier than others. Nothing in life is perfect, but with effort and education, we can make the best with what we have. I stutter "Only When I talk," but my heart sings daily. I am a happy man.

Visit Bob's page at Outskirts.