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  Suddenly the spirit of a youth is trapped within a body battling an adversary whose name is “Parkinson’s Disease (PD).’ So who is this woman I recognize so well, although at times it is hard for her to recognize herself? She is my aunt, and her name is Carol McLeod.

 I have always been close to my Aunt. She has been such a light in my life; always glowing, never fading. I remember when I found out that she had been diagnosed with PD. I thought to myself, “Now what in the world is that?” I figured that since it was as familiar to me as a Russian taking the driving test in Pig Latin, that it couldn’t possibly be serious, and definitely not terminal. Besides, Aunt Carol was flawless and amazing.  There was no giant big enough to take her down!

 That was before I came to visit as the disease had progressed. I suddenly began to hear her say things like she wasn’t feeling well today, or that she needed to take her “meds.” Meds? She needed to take her meds? It was hard to believe that the strongest person I had ever know did in fact have a weakness . . .A weakness that told her how she was going to feel when she woke up . . .A weakness that made her seem to be aging, when deep within she was a young soul . . . A weakness that began to overrule her physical body and turn her into a person facing a progressive disease. Then I came to know the simple things that would tire her - things like around-the-house chores were exhausting. It was then, that I realized I had a different Aunt. I had an Aunt living with something that I couldn’t understand or feel.

Maybe this story should have an unhappy ending, but Aunt Carol would not stand for that! I can see her now, pointing her finger in sarcasm, looking over the top of her glasses with those squinting brown eyes. It makes me wonder, how one who could easily live her days in misery, chooses to live her LIFE in joy. It’s amazing! Is it hard watching her struggle with something that doesn’t go away? Yes, it most definitely is. However, it is even harder to see her in her strength and feel sorry for her. Feel sorry for her? I can only imagine what she would say to that! I have never once seen her pour a glass of “whine” and invite someone to her pity party. Instead, I have continuously seen her putting herself last and helping others. I have seen a woman who chooses to take what she has and live out the positive, always taking the negative with her head held high.

My Aunt Carol isn’t a woman WITH Parkinson’s Disease; she is a woman BATTLING Parkinson’s Disease.  And although circumstances may try to prove to her otherwise, she is WINNING!