"I watched the decline of his smile, his laugh, his over-all sense of humor. I watched as he deteriorated into what was a mere ghost of himself. Where did this come from? If I only has the answer, maybe then, no one else would suffer as we have."
John and I were shopping at the mall awhile back. Upon visiting a kitchen gadget store, we had a conversation with the manager of the store. I was fascinated and jealous to learn that he lived on a very large property in the country and had many buildings. He is an artist and he rebuilds motorcycles. I let him know how I wish I had space like that, studio space that would encompass anywhere I wanted to go with my art. He went on to tell us that his circumstances are bittersweet. Sometime ago he was diagnosed with the neurological disorder, MS. He worked for the railroad. It was determined through the court that they could not prove that his disease was not caused by his employment and he was awarded his pension plus a substancial settlement. He was determined to not let the disease consume him, so he bought the property, and keeps himself physically and mentally busy doing what he loves most in the world.
After this very inspiring encounter, I couldn't stop reflecting on the many environmental elements of my fathers' life that could have contributed to his Parkinson's.
It will be two years this November. Why do I keep bouncing around in the middle? I am struggling back and forth around and around with 2, 3 and 4. I call my bad days, "bad dad days",when they happen they are consuming. I do seem to see more time in between these days, but not enough, never enough time.
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