When chaos breaks out, we search out anything that will give us a glimpse of normal and the familiar. Our natural tendency is to look for a safe place; a refuge. Somewhere between the refuge and the chaos, lies the messy middle; a place characterized by the unforeseen, the unknown and the unimaginable. It is from that place, the messy middle, that I write.

A Time to Grieve

Some of you know my lovely wife Lisa, and you know that she and her family have been walking beside their ailing mother, caring for her physical and emotional needs. A little over a week ago, her mother lost her year-long battle with cancer. During that time, Lisa had to redefine what it means to be a normal wife and mother, a normal employee and a normal friend. Now with her mother gone, once again that dreaded word will take on a whole new meaning as she attempts to create new routines out of the broken pieces of what was once her refuge. Her loss weighs heavily on her heart.

A Time to Hold On

Lisa’s frequent and unanticipated absences had ramifications at home as one would expect. Her absence opened the door to an atmosphere of chaos with a hint of Lysol cleaner. In her absence, Ian and I, each in our way, found ourselves searching for glimpses of normal. We found ourselves unprepared to answer questions like, “How would Lisa get this ice cream stain out of my shirt or cook this meatloaf in that crock pot?”

Ian maintained his connection to his mom though her words of comfort and assurance via early morning telephones call on his way to school. I took to housework to keep the messes contained to her satisfaction. I picked up her endless battle to keep the kitchen counter clean, and the living room floor picked up just in case someone would stop by unannounced.

While Lisa was gone to be at her mother’s side, a more significant share of the household duties landed on my plate. For the longest time, I was just an accountant with a hobby. During the past few months, I added grocery shopper, laundry services, homework helper, taxi, chef and bottle washer. As someone I admire told me, I had to step up to the plate and rebalance my priorities; which required that I put something on hold. Unfortunately, it was this.

A Time to Build Up

Since I started this blog, some might say that I have been somewhat flippant about living with Parkinson’s. I can assure you that I am not. I write from the perspective that I have an extraordinary life, but before I could, I had to redefine normal. When what we hold close is suddenly taken away, and the familiar is gone, the tendency is to grab on to anything that is familiar even when that something is inadequate to meet our needs.

Lisa is the bond that holds all of the pieces of our family in place. She brings order and structure, while I tend to run loose. She served as a reminder to me that we are stronger than we think we are.

A Time to Dance

Over the coming weeks and months, with Lisa back, our routines will slowly be re-established as we regroup. We will find glimpses of normal, and in many ways, create new normals that will enable us to reclaim a sense of peace and a semblance of order.

As a family, we look forward to the day, with great anticipation, to a time when Lisa’s laughter replaces her sorrow, and her sense of loss yields to the fond memories of what she had, someone who was so special to her for so long.

If, in your travels, you see my lovely wife, you will see a pillar of strength with a gentle and giving spirit that still puts the needs of others before her own. She is an exceptional lady, and I am blessed to have her as my wife.

Thank you for allowing me into your home and share this with you.

Next week we will return to our regularly scheduled program line-up.

Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing.

Al and his faithful sidekick, Ivy the wonder pup.