I Curse The Day I Heard Your Name

Illustration of the Parkinson disease by Sir William Richard Gowers from A Manual of Diseases of the Nervous System in 1886 showing the characteristic posture of PD patients (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The church was packed, as I knew it would be. Everyone that doesn’t go to church on a regular basis always goes at Easter and Christmas. I am not judging, because, number one, who am I to judge, and number 2, it may be that one time, that those people hear the right words, that changes their lives forever. We left fairly early, wanting to get a handicapped parking spot, but even leaving early, we were forced to park quite a ways from the front doors. We walked in and two people said hi, one a greeter at the door, plus a stranger reaching out. We sat towards the back as we usually do, because my brother has to always use the restroom at church, even though he uses the restroom at home before we leave, he has an enlarged prostate. We sat in our regular seats, and I watched all the people walking by us to find their seats, some pausing to glance and wonder why there was a walker in the aisle. I did have it to one side, which left plenty of room, but still, it was not a regular thing to see a walker in the isle. Because it was Easter, there was plenty of uplifting songs sung by all and specials sung by the choir. I would glance over at my brother, and notice that he was leaning pretty far to the side. I didn’t want to humiliate him, by helping him to sit up straighter so he wouldn’t fall completely over, but yet, we were at church, and I didn’t want to cause a scene with him there, so I just kept my eye on him. He rubbed his hands, his forehead, scratched his head a lot. Several nervous habits he has. The sermon was fantastic. I couldn’t ask for a more heart-felt sermon. I had goose bumps several times from the words I was hearing. Next came the final song, a call to anyone who may want to step forward and accept Christ. Then, it was over. People walking by me, no one saying anything. We wait our turn to stand, since we had the walker, we didn’t want to hold anyone up in line. I stood up, and then my brother stood up, and collapsed into the chair behind him. He had lost his balance. Without thinking of where we were, I said to him, hang on to the chair for support buddy boy. That will help you until you can get to your walker. Mad, he got so mad at me. By this time, we were half way into the isle. He is standing there with voice raised, asking me” what did I do wrong?” I explained in a soft-spoken voice that I was just reminding him to use support so he would not fall and become injured. He started crying. Big, sobbing tears along with a raised voice stating he didn’t need support. I wanted to hide somewhere, but where? I was in God’s house, the best place I could be. A gentleman came up behind us, next a lady in a wheel chair, then a line of people from the front pews. They just looked at us and said nothing. I knew they were just waiting and watching to see what was going to happen next, and some, I am sure, were wanting to leave. I heard one of them mention they were supposed to be at family’s home for Easter dinner in half an hour. I tugged at my brother’s  shirt and said let’s go. He remained cemented in his spot, still crying, still yelling. No one came to my rescue. It was my job to get us out-of-the-way. I finally took a hold of his shirt and pulled him towards the back doors. He is saying let me go, let loose of my clothes. This was my experience in church today. I always wonder why God allows my brother to suffer like he does. I pray constantly that God will bring him some inner peace while  he is going through this. I love my brother very much, but I curse Parkinson’s and Dementia. I am not as strong as some, and I want to blame someone for this disease, but I have no one to blame. When my brother gets to heaven, I want to see him there with huge smiles on his face. I want him to know who I am. I want to see him walk, without the use of his wheel chair, cane and walker. I wish nothing but peace for him and no more pain