But I remember my uncle

But I remember my uncle

Each day I give thanks to God for each moment,

Interact with my Uncle confronting his opponent.

this disease is scary and at times feels bleek,

but

his life is not over and his story is still deep.

I can't imagine how my Aunt goes throughout each day,

from sun up to sun down and she says it is okay.

Struggling and fighting pretty much all the unknown,

but

they both have life and love is shown.

He would ask me to help if I could,

I would always reply that I definitely would.

His computer would have glitches,

but 

We would sit and talk about his riches.

Today he has problems and calls me to his kitchen,

So we continue to sit as I anxiously listen.

Yes his speech is slower and it takes a tad bit longer,

but

he still has many things to share and this makes me stronger.

Moving around is possible yet his progress is slow,

zooming around with the walker is the best way to go.

Each step that he takes is such a great battle,

but

gravity will not defeat him nor will it kick him off his saddle.

It is time

It is time

A poem dedicated to my Uncle Darrell and the parkinsons that he has had fits with on a daily basis. 

It is time 

Patiently I wait for them to come

Look at my phone, did they text,

two times or maybe even three.

Nope, no message has come through

As it turns out that my Aunt

just simply missed the turn

cause never has she learned

to trust Google Maps.

It is time

I go help him out of the car

We really are not that far

So happy I am to see him

Are you ready to eat, you look slim?

"Yes it is Faby's cooking that I came for

Now we had better go in" 

It is time

Each step we take along the floor

one step, two step, three step, four.

It seems as though you are walking better

He replies "No I still have my fetter

"It always seems that my feet 

are lagging further behind,

Really just before my eyes"

It is time

That passes as we walk to the door.

Almost 100 full moons have scored.

Much more time has passed for him

For it all seems slow when he moves his limb.

Each step seems to be a big score,

He is just begging for more.

It is time

as we pass the entrance of the door

That darn doorsill is a huge sore.

tricky it is to pass across

He just needs to show who is boss.

He started his therapy at first sight

For it started to restrict bit by bite.

It is time

as he sits down at the table

this motion is not very stable.

never does he stop because he still is able.

Help him, cause if not, he could be unable. 

There is hope that medicine will take effect

for pills and oil keep him in check.

It is time

for us to give thanks to the Father

Humble prayer is never a bother.

we bow our heads with much gratitude

This will bring us to a greater altitude.

it is through that higher power 

That he goes by each hour.

It is time

that we eat our dinner

He digs in like a winner.

With both hands he puts focus

No one really takes notice.

His body has changed a little

Carved away by a whittle.

It is time

for him to go home on his feet

til the next time we greet.

we wish each other well

For sometimes it could be a long spell.