Archive for December, 2022


I thought of an October 2021 blog post the other day. I thought of the word ‘control’ when my Neurologist informed me I was likely in Parkinson’s Stage 2. Although I don’t feel significantly different from 2021, tremors, rigidity, and other movement symptoms are present. I remain independent, but some daily tasks have become more complicated. And that’s where I’m at: Life continues to be more complex, challenging, and painful. So, although I am still living [I expected otherwise], a friend suggested I make some New Year’s resolutions.

New Year’s resolutions have a long history dating back to ancient civilizations. The concept of making a resolution at the beginning of the year to do something better or to change a habit has been around for thousands of years. Unfortunately, I’ve never been into New Year’s Resolutions. I break most of them. So, I started a list to accommodate my friend’s best intentions for 2023. Here are the first five.

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A Spanish commercial for J&B Whiskey celebrating love and affirmation went viral for its heartwarming message. The commercial centers upon a grandfather quietly learning to apply makeup and finally assisting his grandchild in transforming on Christmas Day. The ad is heralded for its inclusivity and its final moments highlight the heart of Christainity: The magic of Christmas is about a God of acceptance and love. And that love is not only in Christmas but in all of us. 

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Stedman Graham advised to let no man’s opinion of you become your reality. If you ‘Google’ the quote, the statement appears to originate from Les Brown. However, I first read it in one of Graham’s books around the mid-nineties. Graham’s advice haunts reverberated while watching the film Cyrano (2021). While audiences did not show up in theatres, the beautiful idea of height—in the film’s interpretation—effectively shows how Cyrano needlessly allowed his self-worth to be defined by the cruelty of others. And there, at that moment, I, like many others, saw myself. 

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Reflection of Christmas 2022. Just writing those words, ‘reflection,’ is an achievement. I wasn’t supposed to be here. So, reflecting seems incredible. I should be giddy. I should be awesome. I should be overcome with joy. Me? No. I don’t support the notion that there’s this vast ongoing battle between Good and Evil. There’s just life. And even though being alive at this moment kind of strikes me as funny, there’s not a day when I don’t understand that Christmas 2022 could be my last.

I spent the last two days sitting. “Just too dizzy and wrought with intestinal discomfort,” I murmur. And as Winter Storm Elliott nears the Midwest, forecasters predict a bomb cyclone to layer over the Midwest later this week; my body feels all of the 62 years of abuse given. I should have listened to medical professionals more, but I failed to heed their advice.

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After several weeks of no response, my personal physician responded to my email. After several comments about not noticing my question, she apologized for her tardiness. “Maybe we should try another neurologist,” she wrote. After reading her response, I turned the computer off. There was no counter response. Not that I couldn’t respond. Simply, I am too tired to pursue anything further. 

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