Mum and Dad…

Writing my Blog tonight and then sitting in my spa pool listening to music with a glass of red wine. Trying to de-stress and lift my low mood.

Then I got to thinking about my Mum and Dad, who both also had Parkinson’s. I have encouraged my children to read my Blog, so that they know me and my journey with Parkinson’s. That they have at least some idea of how it affects me and why.

It occurred to me, that I’m not sure I was that great a daughter to either of them. I can’t remember if I really encouraged them to talk about how they were feeling. How they were coping. What this journey was like for them both. It made me feel a bit guilty, that they didn’t have the opportunity to share their thoughts and feelings. I hope that I asked them how they were doing, but probably not enough.

My Mum and Dad were of the generation where you didn’t so much talk about your feelings. Dad was English and perhaps – if not completely – of the ‘stiff upper lip’ variety when it came to challenges in life. I can’t remember either of them talking about how this journey was for them. If I could send them a message, it would be “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you enough if you were OK.”

It must have been hard for them and they must have felt alone in a life inhabited by Parkinson’s. My Dad was the first diagnosed and the first to go. My Mum looked after him for as long as she could till he went into a home. For her to then get Parkinson’s must have been so frightening for her. I wish I had acknowledged that more. We weren’t that close – I was always ‘Daddy’s girl’ – but I did care about her. We were as different as chalk and cheese and didn’t always understand each other. But, I tried to be there for her as much as I could.

It’s been a while; it seems since I really thought about them. I hope that somewhere, somehow, they are at peace.

Published by kiwipommysue

I work in health and have been with the same supportive team for over 7 years. They are all aware of my diagnosis and this helps tremendously especially while I get used to the idea of my diagnosis. My parents both had Parkinsons, so I guess my odds were higher than most.

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