A Season of Change
To everything, there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
This has always been one of my favorite songs, as I was introduced to it first by the Byrd’s (rather than at church) as most of you probably were also. It’s always a reminder to me that there IS a time for everything and although you might be down today, tomorrow you could be right back on top of the perfect-day curve.
There have been fewer blog posts the past couple of weeks as Mo and I are getting past the chaos of the first few weeks of official diagnosis. As with everything else I worry about not ‘keeping up’ and disappointing or losing altogether the people who have started this journey with us. However, I have to remind myself again that we are now in a marathon and not a sprint and there will be periods of lull.
We sort of got slapped in the face with this marathon notion last week at the neurologist when we were talking about Sinemet dosing. The neuro reminded us that we need to be thinking of this in terms of the long haul and we could have thirty years or more to deal with this. Thirty years! It was a big, fat, ugly reminder that we are not dealing with something that will be over soon. This can’t be cured. PD has moved into our lives like an unwelcome houseguest who drinks all the beer and doesn’t pick his towels off the floor or offer to take out the garbage. And we will have to live with him forever! For the moment, we are tiptoeing around him and doing our best to ignore him and thinking of fun things to do that don’t involve him.
So, we are moving into a season of…. acceptance? It may be too strong a word, but it is close. We are backing off from the more intense support groups and focusing on how lucky we are in the present. Mo can work, he can drive, he feels better with the Sinemet on board. He has no trouble walking or talking or getting around other than the occasional doorframe miscalculation. He is starting a non-profit and gathering a team of experts to help. He will be 50 next week, and although there will not be a party, there will be a celebration. I believe there was a time in his life where he firmly believed he would never see this age, and if he did he would not be in any shape to celebrate it. That we are both here and have made our little family is a victory for both of us.
If PD has taught us anything in this short time frame it is that you have to view every single day as a gift. There are so many little things that I used to take for granted that are on my joy list – Dutch Brothers coffee, throwing a ball for the puppy (even though you have to wrestle it away from him every time he brings it back), the fact that it is WARM when I go out at 4:45 in the morning to head to the gym. Sunshine, listening to all the animal noises at 8 in the morning on a Saturday when the zoo is pretty much empty of any kids, a good night’s sleep…. All of these completely ordinary things are just reminders to me that I am still here, Mo is still here, and we are going to continue to live our lives together and do all the things we dream about, one little insignificant day at a time.
There is no real hidden underlying message here unless it would be to remind all of you… if you are reading this, you are ALIVE. You can read, and think, and breathe and hope. Some of your bigger dreams may be getting cut back a bit, but today, focus on the small things that make your day more enjoyable. For us, right now is a season of settling in for the long haul and using the all the little good stuff as the start of a foundation of joy that we are building to support us down the road. It takes a little practice to see all those tiny happy moments, but it’s worth it.
Thanks for listening today.