Slowly
as Parkinson's progresses, I find a little more of myself disappearing each day. I almost feel
as if in mourning for the lively vivacious young woman I once was. Where did
she go to? How I wish I could find her, and bring her back? I know my spirit,
the very essence that makes me who I am is still deep within me, but cloaked in
a darkening veil, Parkinson's is beginning to block out the sun and my days are
becoming grayer. I'm afraid my husband may start to lose sight of the woman he fell
in love with. I strive to do all I can to keep on an even keel, spending most
of my day doing voice therapy, physical therapy exercises, walking with Nordic
Poles, eating even when I have no appetite and nothing entices me, trying to
keep up my appearance by dressing well, doing my hair and make-up. Baking and
cooking, so our kitchen is filled with fresh home-made goodies, like it used to
be. Just keeping up with all this each day is exhausting. I know I must keep
going, despite sometimes feeling despondent. The only thing that pushes me on,
and makes me fight with every fiber of my being is the steadfast love of my husband and
my darling daughter. Without the love and support of these two special people
in my life, I would have no reason to continue my battle. I am weary, beyond
exhaustion, as if both diseases are sapping me of everything but my spirit.
I dream of travelling to
Paris, the city of romance, to walk hand in hand with my husband along the
Champs-Élysées. Stopping at a little café, to sip delicious coffee and sample
some of the world's most delectable pastries whilst watching the world go by. The
famous Arc De Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, and not forgetting the exclusive haute
couture shops, which although are not for my pocket, yet I'd love to simply window
shop and admire the Parisian chic designs, which have always been the center of
the fashion industry. To visit the Louvre and stand in awe before pictures that
artists who have long gone, yet their names live on through the illustrious works
they left for us to appreciate. One of my favourite artists being Claude Monet,
I've longed to visit his house and garden in Giverny that has been made into a
museum and open to the public. Will I make it to Paris before it's too late? I
hope so.
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