“Feeling blessed” – is a phrase I associate little with this disease of Parkinson but I am learning to understand the meaning of that phrase with respect to helping others and help from others. Cheryl used to tell her mother that there is grace in accepting help from others. (:-0) Once in a while I say this to Cheryl when she resists my aid.
It is easy to get caught up in “why me?” It is easy to not take note of all the kind and loving ways that people around you are willing to help in some small way. Most do not even hesitate. Wear your gray hair to the door of a restaurant and the guy coming the other way will hold it for you. Carry a walking aid or a cane to the same door and kids will jump up and open the door.
In our life with Parkinson we experience these small helps a lot. Cheryl wants to do for and help others even when they are helping her. There is goodness in everyone. Even when one is certain that the other person has not applied themselves and therefore did not achieve the expected benefit help is given without expectation of gratitude.
From the point of view of “little helps” everywhere often spontaneously offered to us, we are blessed.
Our friend Jane is a great help to me. She has organized a network of care around Cheryl and me. She has contacted many of the group of women that she and Cheryl used to play bridge with. Cheryl is unable to play bridge any longer. The game is simply too mentally taxing for her. We used to play Scrabble in the evening and I did not want to play because Cheryl would always, often anyway, kill me score-wise. With Scrabble and Bridge and other competitive thinking sorts of games, she excelled. Her math and logical brain rose to the challenge.
Jane and the rest have organized themselves into Wednesday visiting parties. Jane comes across the hall on Monday so that I can ride my bike or do whatever. Barb comes on the last Thursday of the month to take Cheryl to lunch. Cindy has been coming over on Thursday in the afternoon so I can go do whatever. I usually ride my bike in the warmer months. Linda has been coming on Wednesday but her sister is very ill and she needs to be with her. (She may not be with us much longer.) Jane is a blessing to us. As is Linda and Cindy and everyone of Cheryl’s friends.
My son and daughter-in-law have been a focus of my need to get Cheryl out away from our little condo on the weekend. David and Melissa are almost always available for a weekend visit. They live nearby in eastern Indiana. The drive to their place is such that I takes us through the fringe of the city into enough rural properties that here and there are planted corn and soybeans. It seems like a long trip to Cheryl. When we get home her reaction is much like coming home from a long trip.
A few evenings ago I invited a couple of Cheryl’s cousins for dinner. It was a great time. Steve and his wife Marisa sent an email just checking in on us a few weeks ago so I invited them for dinner. Cheryl insisted that I invite Lois who is another cousin from a different direction. 🙂 Lois, Steve and Risa did not know each other except through inference by family name(s). Lois and Steve are cousins to Cheryl but not to each other. Nevertheless the dinner was great. They found common reference by neighborhood. They physically do not live far apart.
Cheryl talks about Lois a lot and her mom Aunt Jean (great aunt). In her childhood she got a lot of hand me down clothes from that direction. Lois is a couple of years older. I may have mixed up the story a little. I am merely trying to track down some of these childhood stories before the people in them are gone. Marian and Tom, Steve’s mom and dad, are gone from this world. Their family is younger. I remember Steve as a boy coming to some of the long ago family gatherings at Sharon Woods Park. Lois is the last, I think, of her family. Her sister Maureen we used to see occasionally at Macy’s in Kenwood doing her supervisor shtick. She is gone.
As we move on and Cheryl resides mentally in her childhood, I have taken it upon myself to reconnect with these people. Many of whom I do not know personally except by my wife’s stories. And her memory is failing her in bits and pieces and fits and starts. I think it is becoming more urgent for me to do this and I do not know why I feel the need to do this other than it brings her great pleasure to talk and reminisce with her cousins. Her most pleasurable stories seem to revolve around the many large family gatherings and smaller group visits.
On my never ending journey to help Cheryl experience the best of her days even though Parkinson is trying to steal the memory of them from her.