Like a thief in the night Parkinson's steals bit by bit pieces of you. Starting with small increments until one day those are paled by big chunks. I have managed for 13 years being nibbled, now things have changed.
In 2013 I went to help my Dad live out his final months, a promise I made many years earlier. He was as bright as a button in a 89 year old body. As his old age started to wind his body down he could no longer get out of his chair, or move in bed or walk unaided. His death was ultimately very peaceful, he went to sleep on my words 'we love you Dad' and he didn't wake up.
I am now living with déjà vu as I am mirroring him physically at 52. There is one big difference I am not, and don't intend to leave this world yet. So I need to be smart about this. If I get frustrated I'll get sad. If I stop doing things it will evoke my biggest fear boredom.
There are times now when I can't paint or write, times when I can't drum or dance. A life emptying in front of my eyes. Perhaps.
However, it's not that difficult, happiness remains an elective choice. My ears still work, my eyes still work, and those who know me well will know there is nothing stopping me talking ! Most importantly of all I still have the ability to think. I have years of joy inside my head. It's a warm, safe, lovely place. It's my home, and isn't that all that matters.
I'm going to continue my life forgetting about loss and thinking about gain. Sharing with those I dearly love.
I turned to my husband whilst we watched a re-run of Morecome & Wise on the iPad in bed at 9pm on a Friday night and said ' I think I'm turning into my Dad ' he replied ' and what a fine man he was too '