Mother's Day with Parkinson's

Happy Mother's Day!

Day Lillys, Mom's favorite!

I totally failed to write yesterday as promised, my apologies!

To make up for it, I figured a Mom's Day special would be a good challenge. However, as my Mom doesn't run, this post will be a bit about a Mom dealing with my Dad's Parkinson's.

My mother, Marsha, grew up all over the Southeastern US. She is the daughter of talented migrant farmers, and if you want a wholly depressing idea of what that means, read a short story titled Angel City, by Patrick D. Smith.

That being said, everyone always told me that my Grannie Berlie loved her three kids more than anything, and would “give up her last penny” for any of them. So, my Mom was always very loved, no matter what circumstances they were brought up in. Mom passed that love on to all three of us boys.

We were very lucky having a “stay-at-home” mom for much of our childhood. Whether it was staying up till midnight to help finish a pasta map of Australia, or being up early to start laundry while fixing school lunches, Mom never really complained, at least not to us. I am sure, though, that Dad got regular earfuls of how we tortured her, or each other, or the cats, hamsters or turtles. It has been twenty years since the last baby left the nest, and now Mom once again deals with all that, except now she is taking care of my Dad.

Now, it's a good time to say that for all the challenges Dad has, he is not too bad yet. Mostly, his balance and his short-term memory are the culprits. However those two things can present a world of unforeseen caveats when it comes to something simple, like laundry.

Imagine if you will, Mom will come home from a full day at work, and she will find fourteen tons of laundry filling the living room. No real order to it, and in the middle is Dad slowly folding clothes that may, or may not, be clean.

Here is what might have happened: Dad wanted to help out around the house and feel useful, so he started on the job Mom likes the least, laundry. In the midst of this work he over-exerted himself, possibly fell but definitely felt dizzy, and he sat down to rest while the wash was running. Then, he forgot he was doing laundry. You get the idea. The end result is Dad frustrated that he no longer sees himself as able to provide, and Mom is frustrated first out of sympathy fro the man she loves, then out of bother because of the amount of work now ahead of her. Also, there was probably a red sock forgotten in the whites.

That one red sock

The above exceptionally simple description applies to so many things around the house: the dishes, the trash, the mail, even dinner. All these things become mountainous challenges, daily, all because of Parkinson's.

What truly must frustrate the most though, is that when you're a teenager's mother, you know they are learning and developing, and will eventually grow up and move out. The torment will be over. For the wife of a Parkinson's patient, though, it's almost a Benjamin Button effect, where the person you care for the most in this world, slowly devolves, and there is no graduation day to look forward to; there is just more pink laundry to fold.

So, now that I've induced melancholy, I shall try to explain why all this is a beautiful thing on a day like today.

Our Moms continue to make sacrifices long after all the kids go off to start their own families. You are always going to be loved by the person who literally gave of her own life to create yours. Remember today, and every day, that your mother will never stop being a Mom, and that she needs you.

Hopefully, this snippet of my life has inspired you to do two things:

1. CALL YOU MOM!!!!
   
   

2. Donate to Team Fox now, please, so that one day soon nobody's mom has to discover the things which mine does every day when living with Parkinson's.

Thank You