My Horoscope For Today

I don’t really believe in horoscopes. I can remember hearing my mom tell me that they were stupid and unapproved by God. I think from her telling me this, it explains why I always had to sneak a peek at them when she wasn’t listening. Today, I read them for fun.

With all of the issues I have been having with Al the past two days. Writing letters for him and sending them off, I saw my horoscope last night in the paper. It was for today. I just had to share it with you, because it seemed to fit me properly, like a perfect shoe.

It says for April20-May20

Make some explanations to persons whose support you need on a position that you have taken. You should be quite effective, and what you say will go over well.

Now if I believed in these, I would get so excited, and I have to admit, a small smile came over my face as I read it, and it seemed to be telling me that what I did for Al was going to be a good thing, but since I don’t believe in them, maybe just a little hope?

The Time Is Now

Illustration of the Parkinson disease by Sir W...

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)

I wrote to you, my blog followers, earlier today about how tired I am. I think the devil himself is leaning on me this very day. I do know that I am smart enough to not let him win. I do have enough fight left in me to tell him to go straight back to hell! If I am going to be dealt anything bad, I would rather get it all done in one day than a little bit each day. This day, I felt, was the ultimate day. After we got home from the auction, my brother went to take his nap. I knew he was disappointed that he didn’t get to purchase any of his coca cola items, but this is the chance you take when you go to auctions, right? Right! I didn’t really notice anything else different. I heard no sounds coming from the baby monitor, so I knew he was sleeping nicely. I really need to quit second guessing. During supper, from watching TV , and now tears, and I mean heavy tears. Tears I have never seen from anyone’s face before. His whole face turned bright red. I thought he was having another heart attack. He looks at me with his hands shaking profusely, and he asks me straight out, whose fault is it that I got this Parkinson’s? Who did I inherit this from? Why cant the doctors fix this stupid thing? I sat here once again, trying to change brain gears from the news to this. I listened without talking while he went on with his questions. For this one time, I didn’t feel the pity for him. I actually felt some sort of weird, strange anger. I can remember thinking, alright! you want the answers? you want the truth? even after all this time I have protected you from any bad information? He kept going on asking what he did wrong, did his dad give this to him, because his dad didn’t like him? Which was not true. Dad loved him, but he carried his own guilt over the upbringing of my brother. I think my brother must have used a half of a box of kleenex during this time of 21 questions. After he was done, I looked him straight on, straight in the eye, and I asked him, do you really, really want to know about Parkinson’s? He calmed down for a moment, and shook his head up and down as a yes signal. I got on the computer and googled Parkinson’s. I read it almost word for word to him, only leaving out big words, I knew he would not understand. I read him the symptoms. I read him about the weak legs, and the freezing of his legs. I read to him the five stages of Parkinson’s. He was quietly crying, but he was listening. Afterwards, I felt awful inside. It was if I was telling him for the first time that if you eat all the candy in the candy bowl, it will make you FAT and make your teeth fall OUT! It was all on the table, spread naked for everyone to see. The room got deathly quiet. I could not even hear his or my own breathing. A few moments of silence stayed with us, then he asked me if he was going to die. I said NO. Parkinson’s does not kill a person. He asked me if he would have to live in a nursing home. I choked on my own dry words, as I told him it was a possibility that maybe sometime I would not be able to take care of him. Silence, long silence. We both sat and each of us picked our own corner of the room to stare at. Each going over the words that were spoken. He stood up and took himself along with his walker, and put his dirty dishes in the sink, and left the room. It was like someone had said, the bar is now closed. He walked to his bathroom, and he is now in his bedroom. All tears are vanished. The quietness remains throughout the house. I know in my heart, that somewhere in his mentally challenged mind, he is mauling over this new information. I wonder what he is thinking, or how he is feeling. I don’t want to walk in on him in such a private time in his life. The baby monitor will tell me if he needs me. Somehow through this mal-function of asking and answering question times, there is God standing right there in between the two of us. He is wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders. He is consoling us, breathing his love into our lungs. It is so strange and yet it isn’t. I have asked for his help haven’t I? He has been listening and watching and knows the perfect timing. He is consoling each of us, our broken hearts and spirits. Brother and sister, God holding us together.