thief
I read the agreement and corporate disclaimer and grabbed the pen to sign the document. As I began to render my signature, I noticed the familiar slant and broad stroke from years gone by. I raised my hand to examine it to find an absence of tremor at that moment. Pen to paper, I filled the blank spaces requiring address and phone number. Absent was the micro script that has consumed the hand writing efforts of the last two years. Present was the broad and sweeping script characteristic in past renderings. What to many may seem a minor gift was to me a golden treasure. My second grade teacher had chastised me for poor script as we were expected in those days to master cursive writing. Attention to that perceived deficit had produced an attractive flair that had characterized my handwriting for so long. Parkinson’s uninvited invasion, now camping out for the duration, has insinuated its movement limitations in my right hand and foot. The discovery this morning that nimble flexibility had at least for the moment returned ignited a burst of thankfulness. One would normally not think that such a little thing as nimble fingers would give pause for praise, but PD is like the thief that quietly invades time after time, stealing more and more of the “little” things that we take for granted. Having one or two restored, if even for a short while, is like being flooded with the fondest of memories. I am grateful to be learning not to take even the most minor ability for granted or as a “right” as a functioning human, but to rather view everything as a blessing, even if only in a memory!