My dealings with Parkinson's started at a young age. I was only 8 years old when my father was diagnosed. I was too young to understand what was really going on.
By the time I turned 12 my father started doing less and less with me. I couldn't figure out why and became upset and sad. One night, my mother sat me down to try and explain to me why my father had slowed down and stopped hanging out, playing sports and doing things like going to Auburn University football games. As a child, I just thought he didn't want do anything with me anymore, but when she started explaining that my father’s Parkinson’s symptoms were advancing I realized that was not the case at all!
His endurance and ability to stand up for a long period of time had started to fade. I'm fixin to be 25 and I have learned how to deal and accept with the fact that it is my time to take care of him. It can be very hard at times. I’ve caught myself wondering if he'll ever see me get married or meet his grandchildren. It truly hurts knowing he may not see that day, but I love my father with everything I have.
To get through all of it, I just have to remember all the times we DID share together before Parkinson's took my father’s mobility. The countless times he would QB (quarterback) for me and my buddies playing football, the long nights of him teaching me to play billiards and the day he taught me how to make his famous pound cakes!
The happy and good times sure beat bad times, but nothing will ever get in the way of making new memories together and holding on to the best ones he gave me as a child! I love you Dad!