I look out the window and see the uneven row of fuchsia roses blowing in the breeze. Tethered to their roots, they sway and flash their vibrant petals above the sagging, discolored hydrangea.
I have my bright moments like the roses, but I am aware that underneath there is a part of me that sags, like the hydrangea at the end of their season. I will myself not to get caught in this pulling downward that is so compelling, so easy to succumb to.
I’m learning to live with Parkinson’s.
Since my diagnosis twelve years ago (age 44), I have gone through many stages of grief which have brought me from denial, anger, and sadness to acceptance and hope. I still battle with these emotions on a daily basis as I live with this companion.
One moment I feel my vitality and strength. The next moment the medication wears off and I feel beholden to the symptoms.
I find myself floating away.
My feet don’t feel rooted.
I want to paint a pretty picture. I want to believe Parkinson’s is a gift. That I am resilient.
I yearn for the days when I could hike for hours, take a long walk on the beach, enjoy a bottle of wine with my husband. These specific pastimes are no longer possible. I stay home more often than I go out. I choose instead to take up residence in my inner world.
This is when the battle owns me.
It’s always one spark that lifts me out of this low haze. I connect with a friend. I get on my bike and ride my favorite ten-mile loop. I swim 20 laps. I write in my daily journal. I take a virtual yoga class. I meditate.
My engagement interrupts the cycle of defeat and I embrace a positive mindset.
I recognize that living with Parkinson’s is a balancing act. Sometimes I have to give way to its dominance, while other times I am able to do the things that I love. I know this is my one life and only I get to choose how to live it.
It’s a deep place I have to dig into which is not always readily available. Often times I have to feel the pain and agony of loss and grief in order to find my strength.
That is when I awaken.
I rise up to meet the challenge of living fully.
It is in these moments that the bright fuchsia of my inner rose petals shine.
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Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash
Miriam Bram was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in October 2008, at the age of 44. She lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and in Amagansett, New York with her husband, Steven, and two daughters Zoe (17) and Kacy (15). Miriam serves as an Ambassador for the 6th Annual World Parkinson’s Congress (WPC) in Barcelona 2022. She enjoys spending time in nature, and loves cycling, swimming, yoga, and hiking.