Our father’s stroke recovery

My name is Gulet Ahmed Isse. I come from a proud Somali American family. My parents immigrated to the states over thirty years ago, crossing seas in an effort to provide for my four siblings and I. Their love for each other and their children has sustained them through every endeavor, and they truly epitomize what it means to be a life partner.

I take my middle name—Ahmed—from my aabbo (“father”). We’ve always been really close, and he has supported me in every dream I’ve chased, big or small. Even though I live on another coast, I can still feel Aabbo’s love around me like a warm embrace.

As October came to a close, I got news that my father had an intraventricular, hemorrhagic stroke. It was near fatal, and he had to be airlifted to the hospital in DC to be treated. He was immediately placed on life support as he went into a medically induced coma, undergoing two majorly invasive brain surgeries.

The morning it happened, I was blessed enough to fly back and be with my family, as we collectively strive to hold him up in this moment. In treating Aabbo, the doctors discovered he has a rare disease called “moya moya”, which narrows the blood vessels flowing to his brain. This predisposed him to a stroke.

My father is a poet, and I find it tragically poetic that a mind as vast as his came to flood. His brilliance transcends language, space, and metaphor. He’s imparted countless lessons on my siblings and I, guided us each through many storms with a steady hand. Aabbo encapsulates the most tender, loving manifestation one can muster of fatherhood and masculinity.

Imagine a man so great suddenly immobilized, the entire left side of his body unresponsive. As a court interpreter, he knows countless languages, yet struggles to speak even one now. Even in a hospital bed, my father is a lion, and praise be to god for the medical staff that cared for him those weeks he was in the ICU.

In my culture, we are each the totality of our community. As Aabbo goes through rehabilitation and my family muscles through this moment of instability, we are more in need of our community than ever. My mother had to leave her position as a caregiver to care for my father full time, and although she has familial support, she has no immediate source of income to supplement her best friend’s absence. After two years of unimaginable loss, this was the last thing Hooyo needed.

We are hoping to alleviate the various costs of living and ongoing emergency medical expenses as Aabbo continues to recover. This fundraiser will help bring some peace of mind to my mother and our entire family. However you’re able to support, whether that’s monetarily, in prayer, or sharing, it would mean oh so much. Wishing y’all good health, in body, mind, and spirit.