The chairs were a seemingly long walk away from my location not far from where we needed to get the boarding passes. The luggage had been checked through to Dublin already, surprisingly without proper identification. Just the distance from the luggage drop off at the street to the line for getting the boarding passes confirmed and securing the service of a wheelchair had proven challenging to my joints and muscles that were now cramping down in protest. The car was being parked as I was waiting for the rest of the travel documents and an opportunity to be “escorted” through TSA and on to the boarding gate. Squirming uncomfortably on the edge of the trash can, there appeared a couple heading toward the check in desk near where I waited. He was holding her up on one side as she twisted and turned and bent herself almost halfway to the floor. I watched as they passed by saying “hello” with enough accent for me to perceive them as British. It stood to reason that they were British since the flight was heading direct to London-Heathrow from Raleigh-Durham. We soon secured our boarding passes and were told where to find a seat as we waited for the wheelchair assistance. They were there also. As I sat down, she looked at me and said, “Parkinson’s is a challenge, isn’t it?” She had perceived my challenge correctly as she had experienced the walking shuffle I demonstrated and the otherwise slow movements. She was experiencing extreme dyskinesia appearing that she was trapped in a strongly twisted body, with her head moving back and forth in a disjointed fashion. She was so pleasant and possessed such a positive inflection in her voice as she talked about the challenges she had faced. She had been diagnosed with PD at age 32, some 24 years ago. Her husband’s smile and affirmation seemed to embrace her in a cocoon of love and admiration. They were returning home to the UK after a relatively long visit to NC and seemed to be taking each day at a time and each challenge that arose as it needed to be tackled. We were heading to Ireland for a week of adventure, renting a car and visiting sights we had never seen, as we drove around the towns and villages mostly in the South of Ireland. She reached out and grabbed my hand just as we were each about to be seated in our respective wheelchairs. The touch was one of warmth and reassurance that everything is okay, even when the most inconvenient of symptoms make themselves known. Her affirmation was just what I needed to remind myself that the challenge is not tomorrow, but the moment in which we are living. A question I often ask myself is, “how do I live in a way that shows the love and grace that God has so abundantly given me”? The woman whose path I crossed while on this journey to Ireland inspired and enlightened my heart in a way that multiplied my gratitude for having met her, if even so briefly. She will be in my prayers often as a symbol of gratitude for meeting people who inspire and encourage.
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