I do not usually “rough it”, yet here I lay, at the crack of dawn (actually before dawn), in a tent filled with people, listening to my dogs whine at the birds that have started chirping - how did I get here?
Those who know me, know that I have grown up in the south, but I am a far cry from a “country boy” as John Denver would describe one. I am what my dad once affectionately referred to as “urban country” (whatever in the world that is). I love nature, but realize God invented houses for a reason.
A regular discussion over the years has been whether or not we as a family would go camping (I am sure you can imagine my vote). Every year my wife would express an interest in going, and every year I would find a reason to skirt the issues and avoid my close encounter with nature.
This year, on cue, the discussions started again, but for some reason, I did not give my usual heart-felt objection. Sure, I still complained, and I was my normal difficult self, and I gave my wife a hard time, but inside, I was oddly looking forward to it.
We got to the site, set up camp and then just spent a wonderful evening with friends and family. We talked, laughed, scared each other, foraged for wood and through some miracle got a fire going - in general, we just had fun.
Did I sleep much? Nope. Was I comfortable? Hardly. Did I smell? Who knows (since my sense of smell is diminished, I have no idea). Was I exhausted? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the time with my family? Yes, more than I imagined I would.
These last few years have been hard. When I was declining, I had no energy. I was in pain, and in bed many times. It was all I could do just to get to work, and when I would come home, I would collapse. During this time, I had energy for very few things, even my family. I was giving all I could just to provide for them, and when I was done with that, I was usually already spent.
Sometimes, I could muster the energy and force myself to do an activity, but many times, it was just too much. Instead of being with them or doing things, I would have to sit and rest. I would have to miss the memories because I simply had no more left to give. This was probably the most challenging part of my illness. In my heart I so wanted to be there, but my body just would not permit it.
My spirit was willing, but my flesh was weak. When I would tell children or wife I could not, it broke my heart, and in some ways, my spirit. My family would be understanding, but I know it was disappointing, and I would see the worry on their face. It would discourage and frustrate me, and feed into the depression I was battling.
Once we found answers and treatment, it was like having a new lease on life, and even things I had not previously enjoyed, I was ecstatic that I could do them. I felt better, and I wanted to make the most of the time I had been given. This is probably why I now found myself camping.
In all honesty, it is easy to miss what is important, and not appreciate what we have until it is gone. This is one of the things Parkinson's did for me - it once again helped me see and appreciate what really does matter. Had it not been for Parkinson's, I might have missed this revelation, and missed out on what really is important.
Sadly, it took a sharp health decline to help me see the importance of some things, things I had once taken for granted. It helped me realize that I am not promised tomorrow, and because of that I need to make the most of today. I must make sure that I am seeing what is truly important, and that I am not missing those opportunities before me, for they will never come again. Thank you Parkinson's for reminding me of this lesson, and giving me a reason to get out in those woods.
Find more resources and posts at https://minesparkinsons.com/
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