You may know him better by his alter ego, Bob. If it can happen to Bob, it can happen to anyone. To what “it” am I referring? Life happens, indiscriminately it to the best of us when we least expect it. It’s easy to think that the good times will never end, that the bank account will never run dry, or our vitality will never wane. But life can be fickle, can’t it? So who is Bob? For starters, there is a little of “Bob” in all of us.

With Mojo – Mr. Incredible

“Of course I have a secret identity.” You may remember this line from the Pixar movie, The Incredibles, where Elastigirl is being interviewed about the pressures of being a “super” all the time. Part of her wanted a life that was simple, while her soon-to-be husband Bob, a.k.a., Mr. Incredible enjoyed the attention and basking in the limelight.

At their wedding, Helen, Elastigirl’s alter ego, tells Bob, “…if we’re going to make this work, you’ve got to be more than Mr. Incredible.  You know that don’t you?” Bob agrees with her but doesn’t really hear what she says. “We’re superheroes, what could go wrong?” Bob says to himself.

Without Mojo – Bob

Fast forward a few years, Bob’s superhero days are behind him and he now works as a claims adjuster for an insurance company. Deep down inside, Bob still sees himself as what he once was and is now demoralized by the life he is living. No glamor, no limelight, just a mundane existence. But he had something that he was not even aware of, something on which he placed very little value.

Sometimes things are taken away all at once and other times we lose things incrementally. Mr. Incredible lost his status and esteem all at once but lost his identity over a period of time.

The storyline leaves much to the imagination but the illustrators present two distinct characters, a younger trim and fit Mr. Incredible and an older, out of shape, sullen, shell of a man named Bob. It’s amazing how easy it is to let one’s soul die in response to an external, at times physical, transformative event.

Bob in the Mirror

I wish that I could say that I would never let that happen to me, but I did let it happen to me. I got hung up on what I couldn’t do, or shouldn’t do, instead of what I still could. I was grieving the loss of my health when in all reality, I was exercising more, weighed less, and was in better physical condition than I was before I had PD. It’s ironic that, in many respects, a disease had a positive impact on my health.

There was a price to pay for not remaining vigilant; I lost some of that swagger that for many years was one my hallmarks. Was I a little cocky, maybe; arrogant, probably; sarcastic at times, without a doubt. What I really lost was a sense of invincibility.

My goals may have been a bit self-serving with respect to what I wanted for my family, but they were rooted in my work ethic, academic achievements, and burning desire to get more out of life. That all changed shortly after I was diagnosed; I began to resemble Bob more than Mr. Incredible. Like Bob, I had to endure a desert experience, a time of pruning so that I could see more clearly what really mattered.

Bob’s zest for life, his purpose, if you will, began to return when he was selected for an assignment to find the weaknesses in the weapons that were being developed by the villain in the story. One problem, he failed to let his wife Helen in on the secret. In fact, he went to great lengths to hide his activities from her. Bob’s primary focus was still Bob, not his wife and family.

At the risk of sounding like a complete jerk, I too was more concerned with what I was experiencing than what my family was going through. I was still trying to be Mr. Incredible for me and would ask for help from them only as a last resort.

Mrs. Incredible

Fortunately for my family and me, I too married a superhero. For far too long, it was she that held it together. She encouraged me to remain connected to family and friends when I really didn’t want to. And it was she who stood silently by as I did things that made her fearful of my safety. Through it all, she kept reminding me that we were in this together and that she wasn’t going anywhere even when I started to push her away.

Finally, I was able to shelve my alter ego and ask for help from my kids when I needed it. I had to accept that they could see who I really was and there was nothing to be gained by hanging on to the illusion that I was still the same Mr. Incredible that I thought that I was. Mr. Incredible had his own family of Incredibles, as do I.

I have a great life, one that is rich with what really matters. To borrow a line from Dave Ramsey, I have it better than I deserve. And I am grateful that I don’t have to make this journey alone.

Thank you for reading, liking and sharing.