parkinson’s
It’s almost Easter. The new birth of leaves, shrubs, garden flowers and plants in the presence of warmth and some wet weather signals new life that was seemingly lost forever in the dark and cold of winter. The symbolism and meaning of today’s renewal with the resurrection celebrated at Easter is not lost on this grateful heart and unintended host to a neurological disorder called Parkinson’s. Today I am grateful for having the ability to choose thankfulness and to seek the path to a thriving life, even in the midst of what others might describe as a winter. Years ago, at a training center in New Mexico, the instructor shared the notion that living life to win was different from living life not to lose. I’ve grown to understand that a life of thriving supersedes one of simply surviving. That thriving life begins between my ears and touches my heart and all those around me. The resurrection that took place so long ago is lived out and renewed each day in the lives of those who embrace the wonder and miracle that the creator ignites anew each moment.
Lying peacefully and quietly with her freshly cleaned golden and streaks of white hair rising gently with her every breath, Gracie the Golden Retriever sleeps the early morning away at the foot of the recliner. Having consumed her morning food and accommodated her need for a run in the yard she has settled down for her first among many naps of the day. It seems like just yesterday that this delightful little puppy slept the time away in my lap as we brought her home from the breeder. She always seemed to intuitively know that she was at her “forever” home, always eager to greet guests and become the center of attention no matter the intention of the guest. Even now, at seventy pounds and having delivered two of her own litters, she relishes her time in the lap of this host to Parkinson’s. Unashamedly, the lap giver enjoys the closeness of the warmth and weight on his often-aching thighs as he massages the cuddling canine’s ears and neck. Poppa and pup enjoy a somewhat symbiotic relationship as each gains comfort in the interaction with the other. Thoughts of gratitude fill the heart as we watch the bundle of life before us and we prepare ourselves for another day with opportunities to share in this gift called life!
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 caulking between the old logs that was placed there so many years ago, has slowly been eroded by the rain, wind, and the freezing and thawing as the days and seasons change. The once host to hand tied sticks of tobacco hoisted first to the top tier and then filled in below was the “oven” in which some of the farm’s bright leaf tobacco was thoughtfully cured at harvest. Two o’clock in the morning is no time to repair the worn old structure, but an obsessive mind that hosts this thing called Parkinson’s insists upon addressing the repair step by step until sleep seems a distant passer-by. The greater the conscious “fight” to return to slumber, the wider awake this codger becomes until an exit from the bed seems the only relief from the obsession. Far from having slumber satiated, the recliner, the lamp and a book replace the conscious discomfort of the bed. Hours pass with just a hint of slumber tapping gently as the head hosting the dopamine depletion nods gently to startled awakening. As anxiety about the day ahead begins to call, frustration intentionally is given away with surrender to “here and now.” Thoughts of gratitude for the moment’s breath and the heartbeat that signifies the life that despite how “I desire” has so graciously been given. The residue of each thankful expression serves to complete the patchwork of the comforting quilt that is the woven masterpiece now embracing. Whatever the day unfolds, with a grip of gratitude and a tank of thankfulness, the day’s revelation can be warmly embraced!
The fields are aglow in the light of the bright sun after the passing weather front. Buds are forming on various trees in what may be a perilously early reaction to unseasonably warm weather in the last few weeks. This seemingly reactionary host to the resident called Parkinson’s disease appears to be as unpredictable as the weather embracing it. A solid night’s sleep may be followed by a stiff and shuffling gait or a restless night with an obsessive waking may result in feeling more energy for the errands and agenda planned the day before. Experience has proven that there are no easy predictors and best made plans have so far been executed even when challenged and resisted. In the warm inside glow of the bright afternoon sun this exercise tardy participant pauses to give thanks for the beauty of the day, the ability to think, and hear semi-howling wind that reminds him of who is in control today and always. Gratitude is the table upon which the feast of life is truly savored as we consume our portion and share with others!
The pre-dawn western sky was aglow as the nearly full moon shone brightly through the break in the fast-moving clouds. It had been four hours since sleep had overtaken in the comfort of the welcoming sheets embracing this possessor of Parkinson’s. Too early to engage fully, I reasoned, as Gracie the Golden nudged herself tightly against my legs. Gently she and I navigated her way to her preferred position stretched across my lap in the ever-welcoming recliner. A full agenda for the day ahead had kept me from rejoining the snooze brigade earlier. The warmth and weight of the loving and zealous seventy-pound creature brought comfort as I stroked her ears and neck. Sleep that still eluded me soon held her in its grip. Her whimpers and jerks signified to me that she was in a deep sleep and dreaming perhaps of an adventure in the fields romping about in the glee of freedom from the confines of the farmhouse. As she seemed to be consumed with dreams I whispered offerings of thanks for the joy of this time with one of God’s special creations. Surrender to accepting that this time awake was simply a part of today’s adventure and had offered me this blessing of cuddle and comfort added peace to the platter being served up. Gratitude, offered up in the expressions of thankfulness and in the presence of surrender is the framework upon which today is built.
The pre-dawn landscape reflects the cloud subdued light of the moon. The harsh winds from yesterday’s weather front passage have subsided and stillness engulfs the terrain for the moment. Warm weather is predicted for the day with another grasp of winter’s cold hand to follow. A schedule of meetings, medical follow-up’s and routine chores align themselves on the “to-do” list of this still reluctant host to Parkinson’s. Stiffness, sleep disturbance, and the occasional tremor have become companions along the journey. Often pangs of guilt come to visit as I assert my anger at the challenge of buttoning a shirt sleeve or coordinating a fork and knife. As I watch the light drive away the darkness as the sun peeks over the eastern horizon I think of the opportunity that comes with a new day. The opportunity to share a smile; to offer a word of encouragement; to engage in exercise that combats the effects of diseased neurons, and the opportunity to whisper words and thoughts of thankfulness for the blessings already received and for those which are yet to come. Gratitude lifts my mind, heart and soul from a place of cloudy gloom to one that embraces the joy of living in the presence of the One who enlightens our way. Giving thanks helps clear the pathway to greater peace that surpasses our understanding!
The frigid air engulfs the countryside as the rising sun glistens off the generous remains of the weekend snow storm. Registering in the low single digits midst a breezeless morning the cold permeates every unheated nook and cranny. The old furnace throws her flame as it heats the air being circulated before it. As a reluctant host to what is defined as a disease called Parkinson’s, movement is often challenging even on the warmest of days. The last few days have proven themselves to be loaded with added fuel to resistance, but determination to remove the uninvited snow from the walkway, porch and vehicles has found its successful route! According to prognosticators this frigid clime will coexist with ice and snow weighing down the roof and perpetuating a bed of ice along the driveway for another two days. A reprieve with temperatures rising to near sixty degrees is forecast for the coming weekend. As I express my deep gratitude to the One whose eye is on the sparrow, I also pray that we may all be spurred to do our part in helping those in need of warmth and protection from the ravages of weather, violence, rejection, or illness. Gratitude is the bridge that joins our hearts and hands together for the good of others when our hearts embrace the wholeness of the one called LOVE!
A steady rain has been falling gently on the metal roof of the old farm house for hours on end. Just a few days ago we were enjoying the beauty of the sun and warmth aboard the cruise ship docked in Freeport in the Bahamas. A combined Christmas and birthday gift to our granddaughter, this five day get away was designed with her in mind. Gregarious and cordial, she makes friends quickly and seems never to be at a loss for social activities that are interrupted only for designated dinner time and mandatory (if later than usual) bed time. With internet access and a stellar good book to read we sought out relatively quiet places on board where we could relax and engage this sometimes Parkinson’s challenged mind. Vitamins, antibacterial hand lotions and frequent washes did not deter the intimate arrival of an annoying rhinovirus that felt it necessary to remind me of how blessed life is without its visit, whether weather is warm or wintry. Back home just in time for the declaration of a New Year and the consumption of a plethora of tissues, time and tasks seem to be readjusting to this year of a new number. Even an annoying return of middle of the night insomnia has not deterred the expression of gratitude for the warmth and comfort of home and the promise of a new year filled with possibilities.
The frigidly cold air permeated the very fabric covering this unintentional host to Parkinson’s as we departed the church wherein today’s men’s prayer breakfast had been held. The breakfast had been a feast prepared by one of the faithful participants as his Christmas gift to his fellow prayer participants and was high among the list of things named for which we in communal prayer gave thanks this cold and nearly winter day. A buzz in the pocket alerted me to the receipt of a message. My daughter had just reminded me that 29 years ago, we arrived home from India. Suddenly, I became consumed with the grateful memories of the journey from what was then known as Bombay to a strenuous tour through Heathrow in London, finally arriving at JFK’s then Pan Am terminal. The ending of one journey marked the beginning of another that continues even today with a heart filled with gratitude for the loving presence of our daughter who like her older brothers, is a precious gift from God! That day of our arrival first to JFK and then to our nineteenth century row house in Philadelphia, marked the continuation of blessing added to blessing that serves as a living reminder that thankfulness gives fuel to the faith that lights our path along our journey of love!