Hello, friends and family.
Our dad, whom many of you know as Pastor Steve, is currently in the hospital undergoing psychiatric treatment. He suffered a severe psychiatric incident on September 24 and has been involuntarily committed.
Since arriving at the hospital, his condition has deteriorated rapidly. He is refusing to eat, drink, and, most important, take his medication. In addition to his psychiatric medication, he takes medication for his eyes. He is blind in one eye and has undergone multiple surgeries to preserve sight in his other eye. If he doesn't take his medication, he risks losing his sight completely.
While not ideal, involuntary commitment is necessary in order to ensure that doctors can use everything at their disposal to treat him and administer the medication he needs.
Our dad was first diagnosed with schizophrenia (more information here ; schizophrenia should not be confused with MPD) in 2000 and has been hospitalized several times, but his current condition is by far the worst it has ever been. Throughout the past 20 years, he has defied the odds and managed to work in spite of his illness and the side effects of his medications.
He is the strongest and bravest person we know because he has gotten up every day to be there for those he loves. And now it's our turn to be there for him.
At the moment, we have no idea how long he will need to be in treatment. Our mom is retired, and between the loss of his income and the cost of his ongoing care, the expenses are and will be significant. Anything you can contribute would mean the world to our family.
Stephen Landa
Our dad, Stephen Paul Landa, was born in Southern California in 1960. He was the most adorable little boy and grew up to be a handsome young man, complete with an unforgettable smile and a Superman "swoop" in his hair. It's no wonder that he caught our mom's eye. Their first date was at Disneyland, where they held hands and immediately knew that it was love. While dating, he once gave her flowers and a tiara and crowned her his own "Miss America" (he has always been a romantic with a penchant for Rogers and Hammerstein and classic rom-coms). To this day they still look at each other across the room as if it were their first glance.
He married our mom, Mary Beth, in 1981. They had us, their two daughters, Stephanie in 1983 and Stacey in 1988. He loves us both dearly but, truth be told, did hope for a son, which is why he was so excited when Stacey had his grandson, Mikey, in 2009. Dad adores his Mikey Boy, and Mikey loves his Papa so much.
Pastor Steve
Dad knew from a young age that he wanted to devote his life to the ministry. He founded and helmed two churches in Pasadena, California, True Vine Assemblies of God and Rock of Faith Christian Fellowship, before moving us to Texas in 1995 so he could attend bible school. Given his encyclopedic knowledge of the Bible (he can recite at least one verse from every single one of its books), it's no wonder that he soon became a teacher at the school and went on to found its church. He worked there until his illness made its presence known when he was 40. He eventually started working at Daystar, where he's been ever since and where he has made countless wonderful friends, all of whom call and turn to him as Pastor Steve.
Our Dad
Beneath the fog of mental illness, our dad is one of the kindest, funniest, and most generous and others-centered people you'll ever meet.
He was raised going to Dodgers games with our Grandpa Mike (but, for some reason, is also a die-hard Cubs fan). When we were kids he would tell us his "when I was growing up" stories. Among our favorites: One time he and our grandpa insisted on taking our grandma to the last inning of a Dodgers game after going out to dinner (some of you might remember our grandma, so you'll understand that to say she was not interested in sports is a massive understatement). After much protestation she resigned to going, and an overly-enthusiastic fan promptly, accidentally, spilled a beer on her head. She was livid (and Dad recently admitted that he was amused).
He loves the Carpenters and taught us that they're best listened to on vinyl. He also invented his own moves to Chicago's "Saturday in the Park" (that might be his favorite jam). He introduced us to his favorite childhood shows: Felix the Cat, Speed Racer, the original live-action Batman, and The Partridge Family. He edits his sense of humor to avoid being crass, always cutting himself off before punchlines that we know must be comedy gold. One of his favorite movies is The Three Amigos ("It's a sweater!") and his "dad alter-ego" is definitely Clark Griswold.
Despite having lived in Whataburger territory for more than 25 years, he has never strayed from In-N-Out and was ecstatic when the chain came to Texas. He is a gifted pianist, and his love of music is what brought him and our mom together (they met taking voice lessons). And he couldn't care less about material possessions -- with two exceptions: the MLB bobblehead collection he has acquired over the years, and '66 Mustangs; he's owned two.
Stacey's favorite Dad memory: "Baseball. I loved playing it and watching it with him. I really enjoyed my time alone with him when we'd go down to the park and he made me feel like I was the best batter in the world, even though it was just me and him."
Steph's favorite Dad memory: "Our conversations. He listens with his whole heart. Hardly anyone does that. Also, taking me to the library constantly during summer vacation, and buying dinosaur models for me when I got good grades."
Love Never Fails
You might have noticed that the word "love" appears frequently here, and with good reason. Our dad is, above all else, the embodiment of love. He cares deeply for everyone -- friends, family, and strangers alike. He never judges and always listens with an empathetic ear. He is selfless to a fault. During this current hospital stay, whenever he calls us he apologizes (needlessly) and asks how we are doing. He doesn't talk about himself.
And he isn't taking care of himself, which is why we have to take care of him and let him know that he is loved.
How You Can Help
Strictly speaking, yes, the expenses for his long-term care are already accruing. But Dad needs support in every sense of the word. If you can spare a few minutes to send our mom an encouraging text message, talk to Dad via Zoom (contact us; we can let you know how to make that happen), or even simply extend what kindness you can to someone you see who is struggling, it will help.
Help Us Destigmatize Mental Illness
One of the toughest battles we have faced over the years is the stigmatization of metal illness. When Dad first got sick, he was in the hospital for a month, and when friends asked what was wrong with him, it was nearly impossible to put it into words. How do you synthesize it all down to, "My dad's brain is broken"?
Mental health treatment and psychiatric medications should be discussed as openly as all other aspects of one's overall health, and their stigmatization contributes to patients' reluctance to seek help. Treatment for mental illness is not a crutch or a weakness. On the contrary, seeking help takes an extraordinary amount of strength and courage, as does staying the course.
We hope that you will please utilize and support the following organizations:
800-273-8255
