A fresh blanket of frost lightly covers the blades of grass that have been stimulated to reach for the ever-increasing light of the day. The crows are still busy cracking the numerous pecans that have fallen from the over-grown tree in the front yard. It seems that the ever-hungry Main Ague cattle cannot get enough of the freshly sprouting grass or the hay bailed from the nearby fields. Agnes, the faithful and dutiful Great Pyrenees keeps watch over the Nigerian Dwarf goats and is the dutiful guardian of the stable and pastureland. Gracie the faithful Golden Retriever fulfills her mission each day as she demands a warm rubbing hand and a dedicated time in the lap of this not so eager participant in Parkinson’s disease. As the temperature slowly moves upward toward that embraced by Spring, the chickens, scratching and pecking as they wander the yard and fields, now deliver more eggs rich with the nutrients of nature. Today, the rage of muscle resistance and rigidity, often coupled with involuntary jerks and tremors, all seem to be less consuming in the light of the blessings of nature that are around. From the soil of gratitude comes the recognition of blessings that delight this heart.  

From a frosty glistening mass of green grass and scattered leaves has emerged a warmer fall afternoon beneath an ever so common blanket of clouds. The Maine Anjou cattle nibble their way across the sparsely green pasture toward the recently scattered bales of fresh hay. Gracie, the ever-observant Golden Retriever sits quietly watching the livestock outside through the clear glass window in the front door. The pecan tree is still giving up it’s bounty as the nut bearing hulls open to release the varied brown renderings. Ravens swarm in from a northern location and noisily grab hold of the bounty the tree has borne. With amazing precision, they pound their beaks sharp edge soundly in the center of the pecan as it cracks to render up the tender “meat” of the nut. A couple of the larger birds fly to a hardened split limb and demonstrate the skill they possess in choosing the wooden foundation upon which they pound their beaks for an easier and more productive return. Those who utilize the limb as an instrument in the “shelling” process have learned to accomplish it with intent. As this possessor of Parkinson’s disease watches the ravens undertake the task of unwrapping their harvest, the thought of “intent” rises to the forefront. The pecan tree has been there for more than fifty years, bearing its abundant renderings of a harvest for those who would collect, gather, or simply crack the shells to indulge. To the casual observer, the consuming of the nuts seems just normal and perhaps random behavior. To the casual observer, the act of walking seems normal and perhaps even random. To this possessor of PD, however, the act of “walking” is anything but normal or random. The “normal” process has become one of shuffling. There are those who would call the shuffling “abnormal” and perhaps it seems that way to most. However, to the PD possessor shuffling has become the normal. Although “normal”, it is far from comfortable. Try doing it for a while and test your endurance! Shuffling has become the unintentional act of moving from one location to another and that appears to have become “normal” for some of us. As the Raven has flip-flopped the random pecan and learned that an “intentional” peck to the shell positioned on the limb’s sturdy support yields a larger harvest than the “normal” peck on the softer ground, so too has this possessor of PD learned that a walking stride which appears as “normal” can be accomplished only by “intent” to lift, stretch forward, support the other side; lift, move forward…. This movement may appear awkward to some but is closer to what we’ve grown to accept as “normal” strides to the untrained eye. The appearance of “normal” has become the act that is “intentional”. I wonder if the Raven understands the act of intentional slamming against a solid surface has become to the casual eye an act that just appears normal? Normal or intentional, the result of getting to what one desires gives gratitude a solid foundation upon which to grow!

As we exited the plane at London’s Heathrow Airport, the fatigue of a long and crowded flight was taking its toll. A promised wheelchair was waiting but took me only to the first exit where we were told to wait for the special assistance vehicle that was coming. One other person who I discovered later was also challenged by Parkinson’s was waiting patiently also. We had an hour and a half to transfer from the international flight to the one to Dublin, Ireland. The battery-operated vehicle pulled close as we positioned ourselves for what we thought would be an assisted journey to the arrivals area where we were to make our national declaration and move on to the domestic terminal. That journey was short lived as the driver pulled up close to an escalator walkway heading in the direction marked for international arrivals. We were guided to a place that was being hosted by someone who seemed not to know anything about arrivals or departures or the need for wheelchairs for so many gathered there. Frustratingly, we joined a group of other somewhat disabled travelers as we made our way to the domestic terminal. Seeing the sign for our flight to Dublin in the distance, we were approached by a kind lady who offered help with the wheelchair she commanded to whisk us on our way. Finally, at the gate and routed quickly to the pre-boarding status, we took a seat next to the boarding walkway. Full of gratitude for the assistance, we tipped and bid farewell to the lady who helped. I sat down in a sigh of relief as I put my cell phone beside me after checking the time. We were motioned to enter the boarding hallway and I found my cane to come in handy along the way. Just before boarding at the plane’s door I felt for my cell phone and in horror remembered laying it beside me on the bench back at the boarding hall entrance. I approached the luggage handler standing next to the aircraft door and explained to him where I recalled leaving my cell phone. He declared that he would check for it as we boarded the plane. Upon boarding, I notified two of the four flight attendants that I had left my phone at the boarding gate entrance and was told they would be checking for it. My heart was racing. So much was contained in that little instrument. I closed my eyes and began to pray that God would guide the rescue of this seemingly meaning less piece of technology. The plane was filling with passengers and the attendants were otherwise pre-occupied. I was preparing my thinking and my heart for the process of acquiring new technology when I returned to NC. The announcement of the door closing echoed, and I looked to the front of the plane as I saw an attendant walking directly toward our section. With a warm smile, he handed me my cellphone! With eyes tearing up, I shouted my thanks to him for what he had just done. I was reminded that even in the midst of frustrations and distractions, there are opportunities for giving thanks for the answering of prayers. Sometimes the smallest of actions by us or others can translate into a bundle of blessings!

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.

The afternoon sun sheds a hazy glow over the dry and crusty fields. The cattle seem to know exactly where to graze, crunching down on the freshest and greenest of the pasture. The humidity has diminished, but so has the over abundance of rain that brought on the springtime. Fall is just a few days away and the hope of life-giving rain now wraps our vision for the season ahead. The cycle of the seasons to which we’ve all become accustomed, wraps our “projected” vision for the days and weeks ahead. In a similar manner, we each take our abilities as “normal” expectations in the journey of life. For some on this journey, the expectation of the “normal” progression of life is met with an experience that interrupts or patently dis-“ables” that “normal” for which each of us seem to be preparing. There are any number of infections, infestations, accidents, diseases, or other inhibitors of life as we’ve come to know and expect it, and blatantly alter the projected expectation with the potential for “crashing” into a maze of “ab-normal” life experiences and challenges. Parkinson’s Disease has been the resounding provider of an unconventional “altar” call, demanding (not inviting) that it’s host permanently “alter” the way of engaging life’s process for which we were being otherwise adequately preparing. The normal “rain” that provides the necessary fluid for life, (called dopamine in the neurological realm) has been and is continually being reduced and or destroyed in the brain of the one affected. Conventional approaches have taken the route of attempting to replace and or reduce the diminution of the dopamine that has caused the stiffness, limps, shaking, anxiety, depression, lost voice, or any number of other effects resulting from the neural-depravity call “Parkinson’s”. The “season” has changed. What was taken for granted can no loner be counted on today. Tomorrow may be worse, or it may be better. Life will be different for the unprepared host (no one prepares for this) of the altered season that has unexpectedly and uninvitedly come upon him or her. Each symptom and each effect often creates the need for a new accommodation. I’ve learned that the best decoration for the accommodating suite is that coated with bright shades of gratitude accentuated in a deep base of thankfulness. Prepare for the new “normal”!