The scene is like that from a nature documentary. Arising starkly unadorned between the green of the majestic black walnut and full leafed maple, the bare skeleton of the once stately oak tree stands as a relic of times past. A closer look unveils the perch of the regal red tailed hawk. Its mate, though undoubtedly close by, is nowhere to be seen. This magnificent creature has a panoramic vantage from which to discern the movements of an unsuspecting bird, an oblivious rabbit, a scampering squirrel, or a vulnerable baby chick, either of which may be a part of its robust menu. Field mice would be our preferred menu for Mr. and Mrs. Hawk, as they make themselves at home in the cherished treasures of the barns (and occasionally the house) shredding paper and cloth in their never ceasing nest making. Unfortunately, there is limited control one has over the menu selection for the Hawk family. Nature’s handiwork has its own natural progression without regard for what I would prefer. As signs and symptoms have arisen from this presence called Parkinson’s, I am challenged often to “wish” their demise to the hawk of my choosing, never again to bother me with their calling. As with the hawk, I am not the final arbiter of what is consumed and what is left to fulfill its ultimate purpose. Nonetheless, I can shore up the barn (and the house) to minimize the invasion of those pesky perpetuators of pockets of little rodent residences. I’m reminded that the “shoring up” of this personal residence from the unwanted ravages of PD is keeping my mind and body as fit as possible. Whatever the challenged invader, building and maintaining appropriate mental, spiritual, and physical defenses serves its function to ward off the wholesale invasion of an otherwise devastating and debilitating intruder. I have found that being thankful is the best platform from which to build. How about you?
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