Tag Archives: Parkinson’s Disease

When My Mind Says Go and My Muscles Say No… I Worship.

Posted on by
2

Several years ago there was a popular craze among Christians… the 40 Days of Purpose craze. This popular craze ran its course, like so many other Christian crazes tend to do until another idea is targeted to promote Christ-likeness.

The one thing that impacted me more than anything was really allowing to sink down deep the truth that my greatest purpose in life is to worship God. I have to admit that since I have let that truth sink deep, I have struggled with what that actually looks like 24/7.

Until one day.

Having Parkinson’s at the age of 46 can sometimes leave me feeling extremely purposeless at times. Feeling as if I don’t have much to contribute any more. When I am in a good frame of mind, I know that there is much I can contribute to life, but my mind isn’t always in such good a frame and I struggle with how one worships when they feel lost, discouraged, frustrated, displaced and even… alone.

Last week I was physically struggling with the regular, mundane chores of life. You know, the doing-dishes-folding clothes-sweeping chores and on and on the list meanders silently down the page, waiting patiently to be crossed off once again. This is the kind of physical struggle that no matter what you say silently or aloud to your ten fingers, they won’t obey. I say, “Type faster,” and, they don’t. Do they hear me? Yes. Do they obey? No. “Scratch my back,” I say and they can’t. “Tie my shoes,” I plead.

Nope.

Ain’t gonna happen.

Today we’re wearing slip-ons.

Sometimes I’m finding I have to ask family members to tie bows and knots in my shoes, zip zippers, button buttons, put on or take off a coat. Those are met during my off times. Times when my mind says go and my muscles say no.

Off times can have a tendency to make me feel lonely and discouraged, as if I actually have lost my purpose in life. Life as I once knew it, isn’t quite the same any more.

Somewhere in the change,

during the change,

because of the change,

I feel my purpose changed as well.

If it is true that I was made to worship God, my first realization – it’s a 24/7 activity. God doesn’t shut off now and then, but exists and is available at all times. At work, at school, at home, in the sunshine, in the storms, in the garden, at the dump. Worshipping God 24/7 and what that looks like for me became my quest. I wanted to know intimately this purpose for my life – that of worshiping a holy God. Every other purpose that once seemed real or important has, one by one, slowly faded to a lesser priority or disappeared altogether.

I began with the fact that

I am a mother.

Mothering duties seem to lessen as I scan an empty nest, its gaping empty spaces filled occasionally – only temporarily. Feathered friends flitter about, with no playmates to be found. I am a mother of three whose primary purpose for 32 years seemed to be that of training up my children in the best way I knew how to point them – direct them – in the path they were bent towards. Now, I am left sitting on a sharp twig in a pokey nest where there are weightless feathers tucked amongst the twigs where my three little chicks once squawked for dinner. I have asked myself, “How do I worship at a time like this, as I sit here watching my children fly away, needing me no more?”

I am a wife.

I know as well as my husband does that I all too often fail in that primary, earthly role, easily distracted with lesser things in life, indirectly and unintentionally putting him second. The role of wife is an extremely important role – jammed full of purpose – and yet somehow, I all too often convince myself that I have fallen short. And so, as a wife, I find myself asking, “How do I worship when I feel I fail so often at who I perceive I am to be as a his wife?”

I am a daughter.

Instead of me being able to run to and fro – doing things for my parents, doing things for his parents – time and distance play much too large a factor in journeying away from home so easily. I learn that our parents are trying to figure out how they might be able to help take care of me in the years to come because of my physical changes. Instead of me thinking about the opportunities to care of them, they think of ways to care for me. This daughter asks, “How do you worship when you feel like you may not be able to do that which you actually looked forward to – giving back a little of what was given to you?”

I am a friend.

In the roles of friendship, I find myself forgetting the things I long to remember. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Prayer requests. Names. My head is filled with too much and remembers too little. I ask, “How do I worship when friends feel I don’t care because I forgot to return a phone call or send an overdue letter or reply in some fashion or form? When they think something’s wrong because the muscles in my face have ceased to obey my brain when it says to smile and a frown is what they witness plastered there instead?”

Fairly good questions. In the asking, however, I notice there is much feeling occurring. In that realization, God shows me the need to live by truth and not feelings that so easily deceive.

Truth One.

I am good a mother. Never perfect, but fairly decent.

My little chickadees may be flying away but every once in a while they turn around and say, “Remember when you taught my how to do this?” then they take a fancy dive, pulling up out of a crash landing just in time and…

it’s beautiful.

Every once in a while, they fly back and sit a while with me in a familiar nest and I like that. It makes the next departure a bit easier. It makes the gap that is left not so gaping.

Then there’s

Truth One, Part Two.

I will never sit on that branch alone. I will never be in that nest alone.

It might seem high from ground view. My wings may be tired and the wind may blow. I may, at times, feel I am being blown away, but there is One who covers me with his wing and it is there under His protection I will hide and find shelter.

Truth Two.

I am a good wife. I could do better. I could do as my husband says and not cook on high so often. I could leave the dishes and sit and talk to him a while. I could quit expecting so much of myself and realize that sometimes it’s okay to just be… me.

Truth Three.

I am a daughter and I am still alive. This disease has become a part of my life, but it will not claim it. I refuse to sit in a chair the rest of my life and eat bon bons ‘til I die.

(See’s Bordeaux’s maybe.)

It is still my desire that if God is willing, I will be there to take care of our parents and give back whatever I can for what they have given and done for me.

Truth Four.

I am the best friend I know how to be.

I am the best friend that I am able to be.

Most of the time.

I could do better.

When I remember I need to call back, I need to just do it right then or… I will forget once more, leaving friends to feel neglected. When I remember a friends’ birthday is near, I need to get that card out then or… well, you know. The truth is, I need to not put off until tomorrow what can be done today for the fact is, I’ll plain forget.

Truth Five.

The smile’s there (even if it can only be seen on the inside) because joy is there. My ability to still smile on the inside is due to my life purpose of being made to worship God.

There is a song by the group Watermark called ‘Knees to the Earth’. This was playing the other day as I approached a red light. As I was slowing to a stop, there ahead of me was a beautiful mountain, presently catching the first snow fall of the season. As the soft, delicate, frozen flakes fell, each finding their own place to land, the picture being created before me quickly became a most beautiful portrait. I captured it in the photo frames of my mind.

As I waited speechless at the light, the view was breathtaking and took my thoughts of purposelessness away as I listened to the words of that song playing in the background…

Beautiful Jesus, how may I bless Your heart?

Knees to the earth, I bow down to everything You are

Beautiful Jesus,You are my only worth

So I will embrace You always, as I walk this earth

Be blessed, be loved, be lifted high

Be treasured here, be glorified

I owe my life to You oh Lord

Here I am

What He’s done, Who He is – this is cause for heartfelt worship.

Holding tight. Not letting go. Through the joys, through the pain of this earthly life. When I feel alone, discouraged, displaced – it is He that I will hold on to and it is me that He will not let go.

Be blessed oh Lord, be loved, be lifted high

Be treasured here, be glorified

I owe my life to You oh Lord

Here I am

My knees fall to the earth

Without Him I am nothing. I am no one, wandering aimlessly without purpose. Not as a mother, nor a wife, nor a daughter, nor a friend. It is He I will bow before and find my worth. It is He who is deserving of my worship.

It is on my knees that I find purpose.

From my heart,

Sherri

Accept or Ignore – Click One

Posted on by
1

peach-blossom-1Somewhere, for some reason, within the last 24 hours, I wrote that PD can be both a blessing and a curse. As I wrote that first sentence, I remembered where, but it’s irrelevant. Anyhow, a few months ago, I was contacted by the PR person at Parkinson’s Disease Foundation and asked to write an article about my life with PD and so, to make a long story short, I kind of forgot about it. However, it was released today.

Today. The day before I felt I had nothing to offer. Two days before I had pronounced myself an invalid in the future, while driving through the beautiful countryside with my husband. A week before that, I felt I was losing all hope, as I hadn’t seen my little Boo for almost two very long weeks.

Then today, having forgotten about that article, I received three emails (hey – that’s a lot!) from people I don’t know that had read it already today and that they had been blessed.

And you know what else happened?

I was looking over the tweets on Twitter yesterday and something happened. There was a tweet about fear by Max Lucado. It spoke straight to my heart. It wasn’t a coincidence and it rebirthed the hope that I allowed to be suffocated by fear. Fear that said I have nothing to offer – including my writing.

So, as you can do with Twitter, I tweeted him back and said, ‘Thanks – I needed that’.

Then you know what happened? He asked to be my friend on a social networking site I frequent. Max Lucado… my friend?!?

There’s no need to point out that he is friends to thousands of others and that he’s become friends to thousands more probably within the last five minutes. There’s no need to mention that he wouldn’t know me from Elmo if I were walking down a street. However, I relished in the fact that Max (we’re on a first name basis now, because that’s how friends are) wanted to be my friend, even if he doesn’t know who in the world I am. So, after prayerfully considering this new request for one milli-second, I pushed the accept button.

Which brings me to my point…

God is calling all of us to be His friend. To believe that even though there are countless other souls He’s calling after, He calls to us as if we were the only one He wants. He wants us to get to know Him better. Spend time with Him. What will we answer? Will we click ‘accept’ and get to chatting and spending time with Him, or will we click ‘ignore’ and maybe reconsider at a later date (if we have more time)?

God is calling us. He’ll keep calling until we click on ‘accept’ and begin developing an authentic, relevant and deepening relationship with Him. He’s not going to give up. Until then, we can keep pushing ‘ignore’, but He’ll be there waiting.  Just for you.

His,

Sherri

I Cannot Tell A Lie

Posted on by
Reply
Pockets of Hope

I don’t know about you, but I find it difficult to lie. For me, I consider that a good thing. Now, I’m not saying I’ve never lied. If we’re all honest, we’ve all lied. (No pun intended.) However, consider what you are about to read and then ask yourself if you can’t lie or if… you can’t lie. Read on and you’ll understand.

In the early 1900’s, Carl Camp wrote something to the effect that Parkinson’s patients were those who worked hard and who resisted the influence of tobacco and alcohol, among other respectable traits. Because of these findings, research has been conducted to prove whether or not this is actually an accurate account. The association of PD with personality or behavioral traits have shown over again that PD patients have traits such as being productive, inflexible and passionate about whatever they do. And…they’ve also been described as being honest.

Honest how? They cannot tell a lie. Does that mean that Parkinson’s tends to target honest people? Possibly. It’s been said that certain chemical changes in the brain during the course of the disease may have something to do with it. Another study found that the change in patients was due to the disease rather than aging, and that there may be a possibility that such personality traits are common with PD brain damage.

Does that mean that patients don’t choose to tell a lie but actually find it difficult to lie, due to something beyond their control, such as causes due to changed in specific areas of the brain?

While this news may be considered a good benefit of having Parkinson’s disease, I would hope that I would be making the choice to not lie because it’s the right thing to do and not because I have PD. However, I’ll take what I can get and if PD is responsible for upstanding patients, then I’m thankful for that one good thing.

And that’s the truth.

A Thousand Words

Posted on by
Reply

michael_fox

If it is true that a picture paints a thousand words, I truly believe that this is one of the best pictures that I’ve seen where that rings true for me.

This picture was taken for Time Magazine by Ben Baker. It was inserted into an article regarding Fox’s fight for research for Parkinson’s, several years back.

I was looking up articles on Fox, always fascinated with him as I watched him grow and go from Alex in the hit TV show, Family Ties,  to the star in the movie trilogy, Back to the Future to now – living and breathing a disease that changed his life forever. And mine.

Michael J Fox (MJF) was diagnosed at the age of 30 and while I was offically diagnosed with PD at the age of 45, it actually began at 31 or before, when it was misdiagnosed as Lupus, with the possibility of it “becoming a more definitive diagnosis of something else”.  I ‘waited’ years through Lupus meds and other ‘ill-definitive’ symptoms  for the correct diagnosis.

Looking at this picture of Fox, I see myself so clearly. Looking like a normal 47 year old human being, yet in a corner with a disease, you receive a diagnosis and you’ve made a drastic turn in the path of your life that was unexpected. You are young and yet you feel so much older than you look and – at the same time, you can look so much older than you feel.

Michael’s hand holds him balanced as he sits on the floor. As I look at his hand, I see stiffness, rigidity and a hand that has a mind of its own. It looks like a hand that has been a victim of a stoke to me, but as far as I know, he hasn’t had one of those. He has Parkinsons Disease and his hand looks like mine feels.

I sometimes feel lost in a corner, lost in the world with a disease I’m not quite sure what to do with . A disease that leaves me sometimes wanting to hide in a hole. Tired, hurting, uncertain – wanting to find refuge where someone might understand, at least for supports sake and not pity. I am looking for a corner where a friend might be found.

I look at this picture of Michael and I see strength and determination. Qualities I hope to possess. The quality of strength that endures and fights and a determination that presses on and never quits or gives up. A calm and gentleness that says “I understand” and determines that to quit will never be an option.

And yet, the tiredness that comes with PD is obviously evident in this photograph. A tiredness that says the pain is real. The medications are tiring. The fight is draining.

The good, the bad, the ugly. It’s all there. In that picture. The picture of a thousand thoughts. A thousand feelings. A thousand words. A thousand hopes.

Wonderfully Difficult Times

Posted on by
Reply

print-6-closer-webToday I was reminded of a very difficult time in my life, thanks to a dear PD’er.

It was the best of times and it was the worst of times.

The worst of times… My life was literally falling apart. Physcially, the doctors were trying to decide if I had MS, RA, a brain tumor or Lupus. Something was causing the optic nerve in my eye to hemmorage and they were baffled. The choices were non-inviting. It became a waiting game.

My three children were all under the age of 8, I was working and for some reason that I could feel in my gut yet couldn’t identify, other areas of my life were falling apart. The agony lasted for 15 years.

I was weak and impressionable and I trusted everyone. I learned that the only one you can trust one hundred percent of the time is the Lord.

Enter, the best of times…

Due to my ongoing circumstances, I learned to lean on God as never before and it was during that time that He became more than the Creator of the heavens and earth – He became my constant companion, my dearest friend, my daddy. In the midst of the pain, the confusion, the heartache – He was enough. On days when the storms thundered and the clouds rained misery, He gave me grace to keep walking forward and strength to do it well. He gave me hope and a peace that truly lived up to His promise of going beyond understanding. It became the best of times in my walk with a mighty God.

I am in another season of trials and tribulations and due to the prompting of what has become a dear friend here, I am opening the private pages of my journal to give you a glimpse of what the last week has been like., a mere snippet of the past year. Because, I was reminded that I don’t walk this road alone as we have others in our lives who will walk with us, although sometimes they have to be made aware of our needs. But more importantly, we have a heavenly Father who promises to not leave us or forsake us. And that is who I will trust for this season of my life. That is who, when the pain pierces my heart and the tears fall without end, I will run to.

During the best of times, I remember often crying myself to sleep. Weary and broken, I would curl up in bed and peace would cover me. I know it was the arms of my Daddy wrapping around me as He whispered, “I will take care of you.”

It was there I learned He means what He says.

This week is not the worst of times but it’s been a test. And when I was in school, before a test I would pray that God would help me to remember the things I needed to know. Well, during this life test, I am praying that God will help me to remember what I need to know… that His arms are around me, holding me close. And He’s not going anywhere. In that, I can trust and in trusting, I am able to rest.

print-6-closer-web

Parkinson’s Disease Is Discovered In The Bible!

Posted on by
1

daffodils

I don’t know how many of you believe in God, but did you know that God talks about Parkinson’s in the Bible? Check it out!

David tells us in Psalm 21:7 that ‘through the unfailing love of the Lord, we will not be shaken. I am sure he meant to spell it ‘shakin’’!!!

Then, take a look at Psalm 16. In verse 11 it talks of the fact of the Lord always being at our right hand and because of that fact, we will not be shakin’! (Again, note the misspelling of the word.) I find this verse speaking to me so personally as my PD is on my right side! Isn’t it amazing how God is so personal?!

David brings up Parkinson’s again in chapter 62. In verse 6, he speaks of God being the only place he is able to find rest. Isn’t that so true? Don’t we try to find rest where often it can never be found? We take another pill only to realize it just didn’t do what we had hoped. We consult another doctor, another specialist, only to realize that they really don’t know anymore than the last guy we put our hope in.

David said in chapter 62 that God alone is our rock, our fortress and it is only in Him alone that we will not be shaken. Now, I know that David is really not speaking of PD, but he may as well be, for in our diseases, our afflictions, our distresses and despair, David reminds us that God alone is the rock that we can stand on and find strength. He alone is our fortress, the One and only One who will hold us up and while I know that David intends ‘shaken’ to refer to as fearful, stirred up, nervous, anxious, distressed – don’t we tend to shake more, increase in tremor activity when we are shaken? Therefore, it seems to make perfect sense that David is truly speaking of PD! For, when we allow ourselves to succumb to the stresses of life, such as PD, we are shaken! We do not stand firm and find our strength in the Lord and often are shakin’! I know that describes me!

You may think I’m crazy. But, God is speaking to the hurting, the wounded, those afflicted with a disease they never asked for. And he speaks to us clear to the end, where in Revelation He gives us great hope:

He will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain… (Revelation 21:4)

Don’t miss that!

Every tear.

Not just mine. Not just one. Not just those that are shed in silence. But every tear. Because, there will be no more death, no more mourning, no more crying, no more pain. Like the tears, the pain will be wiped away.

We will dance upon feet that are sure of each step and no longer fear a fall. We will rejoice and sing with voices loud, where once others strained to hear. And we will lift our hands in praise without pain. And we will no longer be shakin’. Or was that, shaken?

I don’t know how many of you believe in God, but did you know that God talks about Parkinson’s in the Bible? Check it out!

David tells us in Psalm 21:7 that ‘through the unfailing love of the Lord, we will not be shaken. I am sure he meant to spell it ‘shakin’’!!!

Then, take a look at Psalm 16. In verse 11 it talks of the fact of the Lord always being at our right hand and because of that fact, we will not be shakin’! (Again, note the misspelling of the word.) I find this verse speaking to me so personally as my PD is on my right side! Isn’t it amazing how God is so personal?!

David brings up Parkinson’s again in chapter 62. In verse 6, he speaks of God being the only place he is able to find rest. Isn’t that so true? Don’t we try to find rest where often it can never be found? We take another pill only to realize it just didn’t do what we had hoped. We consult another doctor, another specialist, only to realize that they really don’t know anymore than the last guy we put our hope in.

David said in chapter 62 that God alone is our rock, our fortress and it is only in Him alone that we will not be shaken. Now, I know that David is really not speaking of PD, but he may as well be, for in our diseases, our afflictions, our distresses and despair, David reminds us that God alone is the rock that we can stand on and find strength. He alone is our fortress, the One and only One who will hold us up and while I know that David intends ‘shaken’ to refer to as fearful, stirred up, nervous, anxious, distressed – don’t we tend to shake more, increase in tremor activity when we are shaken? Therefore, it seems to make perfect sense that David is truly speaking of PD! For, when we allow ourselves to succumb to the stresses of life, such as PD, we are shaken! We do not stand firm and find our strength in the Lord and often are shakin’! I know that describes me!

You may think I’m crazy. But, God is speaking to the hurting, the wounded, those afflicted with a disease they never asked for. And he speaks to us clear to the end, where in Revelation He gives us great hope:

He will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain… (Revelation 21:4)

Don’t miss that!

Every tear.

Not just mine. Not just one. Not just those that are shed in silence. But every tear. Because, there will be no more death, no more mourning, no more crying, no more pain. Like the tears, the pain will be wiped away.

We will dance upon feet that are sure of each step and no longer fear a fall. We will rejoice and sing with voices loud, where once others strained to hear. And we will lift our hands in praise without pain. And we will no longer be shakin’. Or was that, shaken?

Adult Day Care

Posted on by
Reply

butterfly-12I volunteer at the local hospital in what’s called the ‘Adult Day Care Center’. Many caregivers bring their loved one, one to five times a week, depending on their circumstances and needs. Many participants, as they are referred to, have Alzheimer’s, dementia, are stroke victims, etc.

I have gotten to know some of the patients pretty well. Well enough to fall in love with them, at least.
I’d like to tell you about them, but am going to give them fictitious names, for obvious reasons.

There’s Gina and I think she’s one of my favorites. She had a stroke. She can’t do much with her right hand and uses a cane but she’s smart and quick witted. But today was a sad day for me, for every week that I have volunteered she has remembered me. Except for today. That broke my heart. Not that she didn’t remember me, but that she didn’t remember me. And that’s what broke my heart. But Gina still encouraged me, and the others that were there today – with her wit and her beautiful smile, even though she slept most of the day because she was so tired. And she taught me how to play one of the greatest card games I’ve ever played and we’ve played it together since, each time I go. Except for today. She was too tired. I missed my regular Gina.

Then there’s Jean. She’s soft-spoken, quiet, and so adorable. She needs help with most everything and says many things that don’t make much sense. But today she sat next to Gina and rubbed Gina’s hands so that they’d feel better, as they were very stiff and closed up. And Robert likes to sit next to Jean because she’s so sweet and kind and quiet. She also has the most beautiful smile ever. And she loves jewelry and can tell you where she’s gotten every piece she wears.

Robert is withdrawn, to a point, which is why he probably prefers people around him like Jean. He gets nervous. Today is the first time I’ve gone that I’ve seen him smile. And he also has a beautiful smile. He is always adorable in his white pants and shirt and suspenders. But today he was especially nervous because we had a new participant, Cheryl.

Cheryl is blind and has severe dementia and gets very distressed if she isn’t holding her ‘baby’ – a little doll, wrapped in a flannel blanket. She spent much of the day wandering and getting acquainted with her new surroundings, which she will most likely forget about and be distressed again when she comes back. But, she has a beautiful voice and sang all day long and knew every single song the little couple played, who so willingly come each week to sing and play for these special people.

Karen, one of our nurses in the center, is so sweet and took care of Cheryl most the day, trying to keep her as calm as possible, singing and humming along with her. Karen is merciful and so kind to these people and Steven adores her, even if he has to look at her badge to remember her name. From week to week, Steven may forget Karen’s name, but never her kindness towards him.

I think Steven is one of my favorites, as well. He is so thoughtful. He is very young, but has suffered a terrible accident that not only left him partially handicapped, but suffers from short-term memory loss as well, at the young age of 43. But he can tell you all about his experiences in the Marines and sing all the songs and Steven can light up a room with his smile and make your day with his sweet encouragements and kindness. And he’s so helpful and never misses a please or thank you and makes sure you get those thoughtful words, if someone else neglected to offer theirs.

Patsy has Multiple Sclerosis and has several other physical struggles that she deals with. There isn’t too much she can do on her own at 59 or so. But Patsy is so loving, so positive. And so grateful. She comes each day because she needs care and her husband still needs to work. And he comes right away after work each day to pick her up. And they love each other so very much. And there is not much she can do for him anymore, but oh how he loves her – just for who she is. That is unconditional love, I’d say.

And then there’s Harriet. Funny Harriet. Ornery Harriet. She is a riot and has been known to raise quite a ruckus. I’ve never seen Harriet dance but today she did. Holding on to the nurse’s hands, she got down big time and we all laughed as she had the time of her life for a few minutes today, as that’s all the energy she had for the time being. She loves her little stuffed dog Flopsy and doesn’t go anywhere without him. Threaten to take him, as one older gentleman did, and you take the chance of getting a beating. She’s short and little but feisty indeed! And while she has a definite will of her own, she is sweet and has a great sense of humor.

Jack however, has no sense of humor and has threatened not only Harriet, but Flopsy as well and almost got hit upside the head one day for doing so. By Harriet. Jack doesn’t like being there and it’s quite obvious by the way his arms are always crossed as he sits in the recliner all day long. One day I asked him why he never danced. He said he didn’t like to dance and he never went to any of his proms, either. I asked him why he never went to any of his proms. He said because he didn’t like to dance. I asked him what his favorite part of being in the Navy was. He said going to all the different countries, of course, but the two that he really wanted to go to, he didn’t get to. Oh, he added, he also liked going to all the ports. I asked what he liked the best about all the different ports. He said it was the women. I then went on that day to see how Steven was doing!

Today I asked Jack how he was doing and he said not very well. He didn’t really look any different than the other times I’ve been there so I asked what was bothering him. He hated being there. I asked him why. “It’s a waste of a good eight hours.” I asked him where he’d rather be. “At home watching TV,” he responded. I wondered how that was different in regards to a wasted eight hours…. I then asked him how many years he had been married – 31. He said he didn’t have any kids – which he knew of. My cue to get up to visit Gina!

Rick was there today and I haven’t met him before. He slept most of the day. He was a kind, considerate older fellow. When Jean asked who he was, he told her he was her husband’s father. I think that made her more confused….

A few weeks ago someone wanted to eat lunch outside. It was a beautiful day and so we did but beforehand, Steven insisted it was a bad idea with snow on the ground. The others tried to convince Steven that there was no snow on the ground in the middle of July and 80 degree weather. Steven said if we went outside with him, he’d prove it by throwing a snowball at us. Then later he suggested that we go outside. I told him we couldn’t because he said there was snow out there and we’d freeze. He laughed and said I was crazy.

I haven’t seen Lulu for a few weeks. She is the sweetest little lady. She used to be an art teacher. She sits and draws beautiful pictures and writes as many different words as possible out of sentences to stay as alert as she can and sharpen her mind.

And then Renee is physically in tip-top shape but her memory has faded a lot. She has beautiful hair and loves to sing and dance and loves to hear the men come in and sing, especially the ones with lower voices. When Renee hears them sing, it is like being with someone who is experiencing something new for the first time. She is so excited and thinks it is all so wonderful.

Some days I feel like life is overwhelming. Some days are hard to get through. But then I go to the Center and I realize how good life is. Good because I have so much. And one thing I have is the gift of having these dear people in my life. It makes days easier to get through and you realize – it could always be worse. But today, it isn’t.

Finding Hope

Posted on by
Reply

dscn7258

I have been smiling all day today, thinking about yesterday.

I woke up at eight. I had been up late the night before, working on a novel I am writing and revising and revising and revising and… you get the picture. I got up, showered, got dressed and my daughter drove me to church. I had been there about ten minutes, and realized suddenly that my new medication didn’t like me. Or vice versa. After making a beeline to the restroom, I finally returned to my seat, next to my daughter and listened to the others in the building sing and it was heavenly.

The guest speaker got up and delivered his message – one of hope – and then we all went out to where the skeleton of the new worship center stood, surrounded by bulldozers and dirt and rocks. But, tucked inside the walls of that new structure, were two by four studs with names written all over them of loved ones who are lost. And on one of those studs there is written the name of my son.

The pastor spoke of a little girl in the Friday night service who found the names of her parents that she had written there two years ago, when those studs lay on the ground, waiting for the day they would be used in this building. She sobbed and he asked her grandmother why she was crying. The child, now nine, didn’t know her parents, as she had been abandoned by them when she was only three.

I stood there in awe. One of the characters in my book, that I had just inserted the night before, was nine, lived with her grandmother and had been abandoned by her parents at birth, never to see them again. I felt confirmed that I was on the right track. Or is that the ‘write’ track?
Anyhow, I went home and changed and then went to a church picnic with another church family, where five kids I knew were being baptized. One little girl I mentor, two others who are dear to me and another, the son of a dear friend. I watched each take a step of faith and in obedience, get dunked by the pastor. Total, nine were baptized yesterday on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the lake. I am certain there were angels singing.
I then went home and had a nap and slept for over an hour, which is long for me, but still feeling woozy from my medication.

I fixed a quick dinner, as we were expected at my son and daughter in-law’s house for dinner. So at 7:30 we arrived, right on time and joined the rest of the family – my daughter in-law’s mother, who is a very dear friend of mine, and her father, her sister and brother in-law and my other two grown children were there, as well.

After finishing our ice cream, an announcement was made to all that I am going to be a grandma. Wait, no. That’s what I heard, but the announcement was actually that they are going to be parents. Yes, that’s how it went. But all I heard was that I am going to be a grandma and I grinned from ear to ear – at least.

After visiting a while longer, I went home with my other son and took a blanket from off of the chest against the wall and my daughter and I went out to the back yard, crawled up on the trampoline and watched the meteor shower. It was awesome.

There are not that many days anymore that are that full. There are not many days when I don’t hurt or feel ‘great’, but there are not many days that I find out that I’m going to be a grandma, either. It was wonderful.

Optimism versus Pessimism

Posted on by
Reply

The other day I had breakfast with a friend. We sat outside where sparrows hopped on nearby tables, hoping for a crumb or two. And I learned something:

Optimism says: Can you see all the colors of that little bird?

Pessimism responds: It’s on the table. Yuck.

Optimism sees: There must be eight different colors in that little bird!

Pessimism says: It’s just a sparrow.

I want to be an optimist and see all the colors in every sparrow and thank God that he took the time to do something so wonderful for me to enjoy.

And then an optimist will throw more crumbs for the other eighteen sparrows hiding in the bushes while the pessimist comments on what a mess it might be when they all take off over our heads.

Let them take off. I’ll watch them fly and be reminded that if my heavenly Father cares for these little guys, how much more He cares for me!

May you see a sparrow today and smile!

The Blessing

Posted on by
Reply

fall1

As my husband backed out of the driveway, en route to the airport, the guy on the radio made a comment that fall was here. Did he have that wrong. Fall is gone where I live and winter has arrived. No more shorts and tank tops, flip flops or capri pants. It’s sweatshirts, long johns, cuddleduds and wool socks from here on out.

I’ve already determined to stay by the gas fire this winter. Helps the aches and pains not ache so much.

So, my flight…

I realized again today that I have Parkinson’s Disease. Some days you get by with feeling like you’re sort of ‘normal’. Of course we all know that with PD comes a new normal.
Realizing again that I have PD means having to confront the monster – this intruder – face to face, whether you want to or not. Every once in a while you have to be reminded that you are different than other people your age. You look younger than you feel and you feel older than you are. Today was my reality check with the monster.

I boarded the plane. So far so good. Got everything checked in. Got on the wrong plane. Got buckled. Found out. Got off. Got back on. Took an empty seat next to my flight mate who happened to have done the same thing. Embarrassment is always better with two.

We arrived in Seattle a little earlier than my original flight, which I would come to recognize as a blessing.

I didn’t realize how much I have slowed down. After exiting the plane, by the time I got to ground level, I had a following. It was much like when you’re driving up a hill in an old clunker. You’re going as fast as it will take you but not fast enough for the umpteen cars lined up behind you, their drivers politely keeping their hands off their horns all the while hoping for a turn out so you’ll over and let them zoom by in their faster cars.

Well, today I was an old clunker. At least I felt like it. The line in front of me got further and further away as the line behind me got closer and closer behind until finally, I found a turn out and let them all go by.

There is a verse that says God works all things together for good. I got on the wrong plane by accident but it was one of those ‘things’ that God was working for my good. I needed that extra half hour after landing to get to the next gate, because while my spirit said I had just as much energy as those who had backed up behind me and were ready to race by, my monster mocked me and reminded me that sometimes – I’m an old clunker.

I boarded the next flight. This time the correct one. And we arrived on time. I got off the plane and went through the same thing. Backed up line – pulled over at the nearest turn out. I wanted to cry. I wanted to get a ride. I wanted someone to carry me. I wanted to be well.

But I’m not ‘well’ and though the monster threatened to laugh in my face and remind me that I can’t do what I used to, I didn’t cry. I didn’t get a ride or have anyone offer to carry me. Instead, I kept walking, realizing I’ve arrived at a ‘new’ normal, yet again.

I am slower and my steps are shorter. Some call it the PD shuffle. But, this new dance—this shuffle—it’s part of life—my life. My new normal. I can view it as a monster or, I can see it as a blessing in disguise. After all, the slower you go, the more you see. And there’s so much to see when you’re not in a hurry to zoom by the old clunkers that seem to hold you up from going through life at a faster pace.

Next time this old clunker is running slow, I’ll pull over again and be thankful for smaller steps and the opportunity to see what others may miss. Especially if I’m on the wrong flight.