Cindy Sue Kendall

Member for

2 years 7 months

cindyI sway, I quiver, I shudder, I idle, I shimmy, I tremble, I shiver and I quake, but mostly, I ROCK!!

Done it all my life, the rocking I mean.  Rocking is rhythmic, comforting,  annoying, soothing, hypnotic, unmanageable, and… mine.                                                     

Everything will be alright.

My child self-loved rocking chairs of any kind. I’d climb up, get ‘er set in motion, sucking my thumb to the rocking rhythm.        

Everything will be alright.

First year of college, I received a wonderful gift — my own wooden rocking chair. 

Rocked out, studied late, and rocked numerous “all-nighters!”           

Everything will be alright.

Boyfriend’s family had a rocking love seat, perfect for two. It creaked and groaned; we rocked, talked, held hands and kissed.                         

Everything will be alright. 

Married, we moved into our first home; matching swivel rockers and great-grandpa’s caned-seat chair rocked our “early attic” décor.                    

Everything will be alright.

First baby arrived. Rocking chairs strategically placed. Fed, rocked, burped, rocked, sang, rocked, slept, rocked, cried, rocked and repeated. 

Everything will be alright.

Two years pass — second baby due. Spy garage sale rocker with no seat. Sits unfinished, a jungle gym for a big sister.                                     

Everything will be alright.

Second baby arrived. Rockers comfy for two little girls. Fed, rocked, burped, rocked, sang, rocked, slept, rocked, cried, rocked and repeated.          

Everything will be alright.

Babies grew up, played hard, rocked that swing set glider. “Boo-boos” were made all better with ice packs and cuddles, in rocking chairs. We read book after book together in rocking chairs.  

Everything will be alright.

There were T-ball games, dance routines, and piano recitals; basketball hoops, library books and flashlights under blanket tents; kitchen homework, living room music scales, and fights with friends and sisters; prom pictures, award nights, pep bands and choir concerts; sprained fingers, black eyes and school mascot tryouts; after-school jobs cracked windows, and broken hearts; an empty nest, long good-byes and sweet reunions. I rocked the memories filling those empty rocking chairs.                    

Everything will be alright.

Sitting in my favorite overstuffed rocker, with its comfortable footstool minding my own business, rocking, when my body would not be still. I could not stop it from rocking, hard as I tried. The idling came first, then the slight tremor of my arm, a minor shaking, quite imperceptible, I hardly even noticed. Maybe if I didn’t think about it, it would go away. Rocking in a rocking chair took away the tremor, at least for a while. But then when I stopped, the tremor came back, time and time again. How? Why?                                                                                

Everything will be alright?

More frequently now, when I stop rocking, the tremor doesn’t. I cannot be still; as hard as I try. My body still rocks, still shakes… Will there always be “idling,” “shaking,” “tremoring,” without using a rocking chair? I ROCK because rocking helps me forget for a bit…

I have Parkinson’s. When I ROCK I know that...

Everything will be alright! 

So truly, I ROCK!!

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