When my daughters were younger, on occasion, I would read to them at bedtime. I confess this was not as often as I should have.  I wanted them to be cultured so I would stick to the classics. My book of choice, Harold and the Purple Crayon, by Crockett Johnson. If you are familiar with this book, please feel free to skip this paragraph; I know that your time is valuable. If not, read on!

The story follows Harold on his journey through a reality that he creates by drawing it out with his purple crayon. His adventure begins simply wanting to go for a walk but soon he gets lost. On his journey, he encounters all kinds of adventures, he is startled by a dragon hiding behind a tree that caused him to fall into a lake. He improvises by creating a boat and sails to shore. Next he climbs a mountain to get a better view of his surroundings, but falls off the other side. Before he hits the ground, he creates a balloon that takes him to safety. While in the balloon, he began looking for the way home. He knows where the moon is in relationship to his window but he can’t find his window. He creates a city full of tall building with windows but none of them are his window. Though it all, he remains focused on the moon. In the end, he comes to realize that when he is in his own bedroom, a setting that is familiar and secure, he remembers where the moon should be, just outside of his window. He draws the window of his bedroom around where the moon is supposed to be, he draws his bed and finally draws his covers and he falls asleep. Harold never looked back, he pushed through the unknown, demonstrated resourcefulness and courage. Finally, he is able to gather his wits and return home.

In 2001, I went for a walk of my own and created my own reality. I closed a business that was doing well, in an industry that I knew well, to begin what I thought would be a simple career transition. But the world changed when airplanes began flying into buildings, well known and respected companies imploded, each rattling the confidence of the US economy. Though it all, I persevered, never looked back, and found clever and resourceful ways, wrapped in large measures of grace, to provide for the needs of my family. I knew if I ever needed to, I could return to the trades as my “option of last resort.” My tenacity paid off. (Volumes could be written about this time of transition, but that will have to wait for another day). My life was finally beginning to look “normal”. I had just began to stabilize my career after a tumultuous season in highway construction where I encountered many dragons. For the first time in many years, maybe ever, I was able to achieve some semblance of a life-work balance. But nothing that I experienced through the career transition would prepare me for living with Parkinson’s. Today the recurring theme that permeates my thought process is “Striving for normalcy…” I define normal much differently than I did just a few years back. My current definition consists of a reference or ability to do something that I could do in the past with ease, but now takes additional effort. I am writing from Florida, on vacation with my wife and son. This vacation is different from those that we have taken in years past. Lisa and I decided to drive, spending the better part of the last two days in the car. Before I was diagnosed, I wouldn’t think twice about a trip that would require 16-hours of driving. I would drive through the night while my wife and kids would sleep, Lisa would relieve me in the morning. Before we left, I was more than a little apprehensive about the prospects of being confined to a vehicle for so long, of a greater concern was that I would not be able to make a meaning full contribution to the driving duties. With the exception of a major traffic jam near Louisville, the trip to Florida went without a hitch. Sure, I could have pulled off the expressway every hour for a French-fry and a walk, but that would have extended the time on the road even longer and the increase in fat from all of the fries would likely have put me in the ER. So, I had to adapt, not all that different than Harold.

My family and I took a much needed vacation. We had an opportunity to travel once again, something we always enjoyed doing. A glimpse of normalcy, that’s what I needed and that’s what I got. Some weeks it’s about small victories; maybe a small boat will appear, or a balloon that can take you to safety when you need it the most. I think that taking chances can still pay off and that adventures are still necessary; what you experience along the way may remind you of something that you forgot about yourself.

Thank you Mr. Johnson for sharing Harold with me.