stiffness

This swinging weather, from hot to high winds to freezing cold, in what would otherwise be described as springtime, leaves this possessor of PD grappling for words to express this body’s not so thrilled desire to be let loose! Stiffness, rigidity, slowness and poignant fatigue at unexpected moments set’s this old one toward a shuffle and a shake. An intentional “stride” forward in an exaggerated but correct walk from front door to back get’s this old mind whirling. Suddenly, I’m talking to Miss Gracie, the Golden, as though she’s understanding every utterance out of my mouth. Suddenly, I crack myself up with laughter at the pun just spewed from my lips. Encouraged by my own enjoyment, I continue full force in “thinking out loud.” Amazed at what flips from my lips as it has bounced through my brain, I embrace my moment with awe and laughter. It’s not that I think my humor is so great (although I am my greatest comic fan), it is rather with wonder and gratitude that I embrace this time alone during my day, giving thanks for what I recognize as sanity (at least my version), enthusiasm at life and a mixture of occasional sadness at the seemingly short duration of it all. Lest one think this PD affected mind is all possessed with crazed humor, I attest that from these lips unbridled comes words of sorrow as moments are recalled of times past where I regret not having let pass through these lips words of love and encouragement to those who meant so much and who have now no chance to respond. Laughter, love, loss, happiness, joy, grief, sadness, contentment, and gratitude for the opportunity to experience each of these life expressions now lifts this humble heart to a place where words spoken or embraced are understood and the Divine guide on this journey has won the race!

Outside, the view is overcast and gloomy. Inside, the room in which this PD possessor resides, is cozy and warm. An early rise to provide transport of my lovely but sometimes “tardy” teenage granddaughter to her high school was met today with success (as is every day). As I waited with a second cup of coffee at the nearby country diner for a gentleman introduced through email as one who was also experiencing the symptoms of Parkinson’s, I checked for messages and emails on my handy little cellphone. The new acquaintance arrived, and I could immediately tell he was experiencing some symptoms not unlike mine. Slowness of movement and a slight shuffle in his gait were the two most obvious to me, though perhaps not to others who do not experience such impediments as “normal” hoppers, skippers, and jumpers! During our visit over a tasty breakfast, we shared the individual experiences of uncovering the symptoms that would ultimately lead to the diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. The similarities were enough for each of us to be sensitive to the struggle sometimes experienced by the other. As many times that I have read about and heard about another person experiencing early symptoms (a relatively recent friend who has had PD for many years has shared some of his story as well), this was my first time sharing face to face with another who has been challenged by unveiling of this uninvited guest residing deep in the brain. Conversation moved from family background through professional experiences and the place of faith in life now. The richness of sharing the place that gratitude and thankfulness have provided was encouraging to both. We promised more sharing time as encouragement and inspiration to each other as we nurture our individual THRIVING HEARTS. Gratitude is the wonderful foundation upon which a soul’s journey may be fastened as the Maker refines.

A step outside resembles a visit to the sauna. Even the overcast skies and intermittent winds seem to only stir the steamy pot of perspiration prompting humid degrees. Gracie and her soon to be neighboring pup had a short ten-minute romp together and are now both sprawled exhaustedly at my feet. A three-hour tour on the zero-turn mower this morning rendered the nearly three acres of sprawling lawn a fresh hew neatly trimmed. It rendered this host to PD Stiff and shaky, but grateful to have gotten it accomplished. It’s so easy to revert to the mindset that life “should be” so much easier to maneuver. I see the chickens scavenging freely midst the mower tossed clippings and I witness the goats doing some seemingly effortless head butting while I struggle to walk to the house after exiting the seat of the mower. The pity party was over months (if not years) ago, so don’t misinterpret this reflection on reality as overly self-indulgent. I once pondered “why me”? Then the answer “why not?” came barreling my way. The etiology of Parkinson’s disease is medically explainable, so that tells me how tis came to be. I may never know why it is happening in me, any more than the millions of others who are presented with the disease challenge called Parkinson’s. But, I can know one thing for sure; I am ever so grateful for the moments I still have to move, to breathe, to hug, to enjoy a refreshing breeze, to see grandchildren frolic about and to glide a still nimble left hand over the computer keyboard as I share the expressions of this heart set on thriving in the glow of God’s grace. Parkinson’s was not my choice, but the mind I choose to have it live within is mine to wield. In my moments of sometimes pain and anger at the challenges being faced, I remind myself that the very breath I take is a gift and I find my spirit being lifted from a place of mourning to the dawning of a new morning lighted with new possibilities.

The hot and humid air penetrates to the skin as this surrendered host to PD moves ever so slowly through the morning haze at the farm. The square foot garden has provided abundantly this season and a desire to beat the mid-day heat prompted an early trek to gather cucumbers, tomatoes and string beans. Anticipating a quick turnaround (my fantasy, I know) the iron gate was left ajar. Voicing her content, one of the literal spring chickens began to waddle her way into the garden seeking fresh bugs or seeds to satiate her seemingly endless appetite. Desiring not to chase after her when I was finished I approached her from behind and touched her gently on the back of her neck. She squatted and lifted her wings in surrender as I gently picker her up and placed her outside the gate near several other curious chickens. They all made their happy perky sounds as they wandered off to the freshly mowed field in search of tender morsels. I too, filled with the undesired moisture that surrounded me and fraught with the strain of bending and pulling the string beans, turned to gather a few ripened tomatoes and the generously filled bag of fresh cucumbers and headed to the “conditioned” air of the habitat called home. As the cool and refreshing air surrounded me, I was suddenly filled with a sense of gratitude for the veggies, the cool retreat from the summer surge of heat and the warm and gentle encounter with the hen. The pain and stiffness had not departed but my new companion that I have grown to rely upon for comfort, the embrace of gratitude, served to gently sooth my thoughts and my cares as I whispered words of thanks to the provider of all things great or small. I am thankful for the discovery!

The light through the bedroom window seemed bright, even as the closed blinds obscured the view. Wake from a restful sleep led this unwitting host to Parkinson’s presence to perceive that a full night of rest had been tucked into his body between the warm and welcoming sheets. A glance at the clock on the kitchen stove indicated that less than a full night’s sleep had been tucked away last evening. Nevertheless, this mind and body was rested and energized in a way unlike the last few mornings. Aches and pains had subsided and stiffness was less prominent than we have grown accustomed to. Ingestion of the morning meds that has become the habitual norm was accomplished and Gracie the Golden was granted her early morning relief run through the yard and garden. Frost had accumulated on the automobile windows and the grassy fields beyond. Winter’s grasp was not yet relaxed even as several days of spring had teased their way into the region. Internally, there exists today a “freedom” that has not been experienced in some time. It is a freedom from some symptoms that had almost become the norm; those of stiffness, rigidity, “foggy” perception of the day with a bent toward the drowsy. Today, the return of freedom from those pesky perpetrators of ennui and a mind not overwhelmed with the struggle of movement at every turn. Gratitude has been the engine that has driven each day prior, but today it is the rocket ship that propels this thankful heart and mind to rejoice in every moment of this glorious gift that used to be termed as “normal”.

The emerging green grass shows its healthy demeanor despite the few nights of sub-freezing weather. As the pre-spring warmth returns, this aging host to dopamine’s depletion (PD) savors each moment and welcomes the sense of greater freedom from the constraints of winter’s cold. With that freedom comes then the matter of choice. Shall the comfort of the sturdy recliner supersede the freedom to move about more in the warmth of the outdoor climes? Will the lure of a healthier existence with its enhanced ability in movement motivate this aching and often stiff creature toward a place of greater self-control? If so, to what end? Choosing the half-baked couch potato approach to today and tomorrow when there are multiples of other options seems wasteful and negligent. The many options available in the presence of strength of movement seem the wiser choice today. Furthermore, as gratitude has been the nourishment on the plate of thankfulness from which I feast and thrive, a choice neglectful of gracious options seems a poor response to such wonderful gifts. Today I opt for the multiples of choices more likely to appear in today’s arena of self-control and give thanks for thought provoking moments other people have already inspired.

Passing showers had dampened our way and tightly congested roadways had made the journey from the mountaintop to the rolling hills of Connecticut a tedious challenge. The patio and pool deck were abuzz with hugs, greetings and laughter as family and friends had gathered to celebrate family and commemorate the life of nephew Joey and support the foundation his father had founded in his memory that gives financial support to folks living with the challenges of cancer. Family from age one to 92 hovered securely beneath the canopies as the rain came down in virtual torrents. The joy of being together again in one place superseded any complaints about the weather as folks gathered closer to hear the challenges and victories experienced over the past year. As the sun shone brightly warming the freshly mowed greens at the golf club, the rain from the previous evening was but a faint memory overshadowed by the joy of family fun together. Hundreds of folks had gathered to support the foundation and honor the memory of Joey. The storms had passed and bright sunshine exposed nature’s bounty as the golf tournament was played, raffle tickets were sold, and food was shared with still more friends and relatives. The banquet that evening, though sumptuous, was incidental to the thrill of seeing the grant funds being given to those who needed the support that the memory of Joey had funded and to witness the grace and poise with which his dad both gave and received recognition for acts of love well executed. The joy of that day and the testimony of love and thankfulness for the value of life even in the presence of life threatening challenges allowed gratitude its ascent far above the aches and stiffness that accompany the unseemly diagnosis named Parkinson’s.

The fog was slowly lifting as the sun burned its way through the hazy distance. Sleep had been an occasional visitor to this stiff and sore possessor of Parkinson’s pathology after a long journey the day before. The bed had long since lost its reflexive embrace after years of hosting those on retreat. Rising to welcome the day in that early morning mist provided relief from the pressure points only that ancient mattress could illuminate. Reflecting on the beauty that was being unveiled of the Delaware Water Gap through the thinning fog of the distant vista and counting the blessings of renewed friendships in this “retreat” weekend, prayers of gratitude sprang forth in the morning of that new day. Soon the bustle of breakfast and chatter of friendly greetings consumed the space as we all prepared to welcome the day of sharing together in ways that would touch our hearts and inspire our thoughts as “keynote” speakers delivered the renderings of their efforts and heartfelt testaments. Our expectations were again exceeded as thoughtful, intelligent, and inspiring talks unfolded. The last speaker of the day who is just a few years younger than one of my sons shared a moving and scholarly summary of her work in preparing and publishing the biography of Joy Davidman Gresham, wife of C.S. Lewis. So very much has been published about Lewis, but little substantiated information about Joy has emerged over the years. As Abigail, our new acquaintance and gifted author shared her journey of discovery made in research for her book; we were again filled with gratitude for the efforts and exercised talent of those who use their gifts to inspire others. At the end of that day, stiffness aches and pains assumed their welcomed position beneath the presence of thankfulness that erupted in feelings of gratitude for having the opportunity to participate in that final evening of “retreat”.

Sun lit skies were tenuous as strands of chilled air streamed by in the heat of the afternoon. A downpour had threatened the park gathering just an hour before but more than one hundred hopeful and eager members and attendees came together to get to know one another and share a meal. There was one distant cousin among the gathering whom I had never met before. His father and I had been friends as children and teens, but lost contact with one another in the busy time of high school in different locations. It was good to learn from his son that all was well with his dad as we engaged that initial cursory discussion. The stiff and painful companion dubbed Parkinson’s had almost convinced me that greater gain would be found by staying home than navigating the narrow paths of the park or the crowded space of the park’s pavilion. Fortunately, resistance to the avoidance temptation won out and I experienced the joy of interacting with and getting to know just a little better both old and new acquaintances. Pain and stiffness were relegated to positions among the sidelines and gratitude and thankfulness took center stage as we engaged the wonder of fellowship in what is growing to be a broader community. Traveling with the companions of gratitude and thankfulness is proving to be far superior to the sedentary confines of pain and stiffness. The discovery of and sharing with others and their lives and histories enriches the soul like soil readied for planting. May the crop be bountiful!

Small flocks of yellow finches swarm the fields bearing yellow flowers in the cool spring morning. Passing storms swept in more humid, but cooler overcast skies. The day looks moist in these early hours, but we never know what the day may bring. Moving household goods across the street can be taxing, but moving them with two infants more than seven hundred miles is a daunting task. My son’s household belongings are now securely crammed into his family’s new abode, but all is far from settled. The evening of their arrival afforded a much needed reprieve from the bustle and tedious events and distractions of the packing and journey that was preparation for new adventures in a new part of the country for them. Gratitude has been the pillow upon which we have all laid our heads the last few days and thankful hearts beat to the rhythm that has been wrought as a new chapter in their lives unfolds. Patience, perseverance, and persistence are proving to be valued assets as they place their faith in the One who provides. Tremors, stiffness, aches and pains act as impediments to this possessor of Parkinson’s who nevertheless heaps a healthy helping of gratitude beside the gate of new beginnings.

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