In my childhood, I had an aunt who had Parkinson’s Disease. I only remember my parents taking me to visit her and that she sat in a chair with a table in front of her. She never walked in front of me and honestly, I don’t know if she was mobile.

 

She had a great sense of humor and I remember her always telling stories. She kept candy on her table so she could give it to my cousin and I. We probably visited around twice a month.

 

Her daughter was her caretaker, and I know she devoted herself to that task; it was her job. In those days there wasn’t any real medication to manage the disease.

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My father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease when I was a young adult and already married, so his progression was not a day to day impact on my daily life. He was very disciplined about his exercise routine and compliant about taking the medication provided. He and my mother managed his medical needs, and unfortunately she developed cancer and he became her caretaker!

 

They lived in my home during the time she was being treated, but they resided in Florida. In Florida, he drove locally to do errands and go to doctor appointments. However, in my house in NY, he stopped driving. It was my job to provide their transportation as needed. He was able to walk stairs back then and he navigated his surroundings well and unassisted. 

When my mother died, he was able to live alone independently for about 9 years. Despite that, he fell ill with the flu, which seemingly became the trigger that caused his progression. My sister and I insisted he move into assisted living facility, and move closer to one of us. The two of us realized that although he was living alone (in Florida) and never complained, he was not physically able to have a good quality of life living alone. My sister lived in New Jersey and I lived on Long Island.

 

We still believe he hid how difficult living alone was. He had his routine in Florida, and didn’t want to worry us. He was 88 at that time.

 

After his move, he required more and more assistance with the tasks of daily life. He was able to go out for dinners with us, as well as being able to attend family gatherings for awhile. The only assistance he needed was getting in and out of cars, walking in the street, or going up and down stairs.

 

He began to decline in the ability to do things outside of the Assisted Living. He had his medications managed by a nurse, and had a helper to assist his bathing and dressing. It became difficult for him to drink from a glass or cup and to cut and eat his food because of his physical disabilities. He died at age 92 from an unrelated infection that he developed from an operation, not from Parkinson’s Disease. Throughout his life, my father stayed was mentally sharp, watched tv, read the paper everyday and looked forward to our visits.