I read a book by a man whose wife died from a Parkinson’s related issue. But before going into her suffering and death, he delves into their individual histories and their meeting and marriage. I was moved by his narration of a doctor’s appointment where the wife told the neurosurgeon that her greatest pain, hardship and heartache about having Parkinson’s was that she was not able to hold her grandchildren.
As I’m sure you can tell from all my posts, I could most certainly relate to that grief. Except mine is about my youngest children who I can’t pick up and cuddle and love on and haven’t for most of their lives.
Next week again will start another countdown to when I’ll hopefully be able to hold them. And that’s the hope I have lived with and will continue to hold onto.
One day, all these surgeries will be over and I’ll be able to mother as I would like to, or at least do it more than I have these past few years.
I don’t have Parkinson’s. I don’t plan on things getting worse like those with Parkinson’s have to. It could be worse. The year began with hope. My brother declaring and “praying” that there be no further surgical operations this year. Sadly, that has not yet happened. But I CAN hope that this is the last one not only of the year, but of the rest of my life.
I can plan on recovering. On getting back to working out and getting strong. On seeing a pain specialist and getting my back pain reduced. I can plan and hope that though I’m aging and aging faster due to my ovarian issues, I won’t be cut up. I won’t be debilitated further, or more than I am or will be in this post-op period.
I can plan on holding my children even if by the time I can, they will think they are too old for it. i just need to be strong for 7 weeks. In 7 weeks’ time, things will not be worse, but better.
Isn’t it a privilege to be able to hope for better? Unlike those with progressive conditions whose only hope is to push the ‘worse’ further away?