Hello All - First, I'd like to add my Welcome to Margaret
Mueller along with the sincere hope that she will find her
association with this List to be as deeply satisfying and
as informative as I have found it to be. - Second, I'd
like to express my sympathy for those victims of the L.A.
earthquake. Hopefully none of you were directly involved
nor had friends or relatives that were. - Third, while
sorting back thru my files I came across another of Jerry
Finch's postings. It is a deeply felt reflection of my own
feelings expressed much more adequately then I ever could.
Here is that Post:
 
Subj:  When Love Isn't Enough
Date:  93-10-18 11:21:42 EST
From:  JFinch
 
     There was a time when I was younger and more
     spirited, that my relationships bounced from one
     woman to another. The sense of youth, of new-found
     masculinity during the late teens and early twentys,
     seemed endless. Some people might say that I was out
     to prove my masculinity, but I would argue against
     that. Doubts didn't exist, just the desire to
     experience. Twenty-three years ago, I meant someone
     in whom I found all the qualities that I could ever
     want in a relationship. Within days of our meeting,
     it seems, the semi-insane drive to wander from one
     relationship to another came to a halt. I suddenly
     became at ease with myself and the raging fires of
     youth became the gentle flame that kept warm the
     desires of our marriage. There has never been a great
     urgency in our love-making. We were secure in our
     love for one another, gentle and caring in our
     desires. Frequency reports from psychologists who had
     little else to do other than ask stupid questions had
     no affect on us. When we wanted, we did. If we missed
     two weeks, it didn't matter. Raising two daughters
     while both of us worked, the stress and strains of
     day to day life sometimes made the quiet moments
     between lights out and sleep the only t ime that we
     had to ourselves, moments that we spent in soft
     whispers or in a gently hug. Seasons change. As much
     as we try to hold on to a lifestyle that we find
     enjoyable, so to do outside forces place before us
     the obstacles that we know as challanges. For some it
     might be that loss of a job, the death of a child,
     the pain of cancer. In our case it's Parkinson's
     disease. Two years ago, my turn came. As some of you
     know, I've gone through the anger, the guilt, the
     depression, I've fought and yelled and screamed and
     kicked and finally come to realize that n othing I
     can say or do will make the monster go away. It's
     here to stay. Like an unwanted live-in guest, it is
     there every waking moment, wanting attention,
     demanding recognition, insisting on being a major
     factor in our lives. There is no doubt that PD
     affects, or will affect, virtually every facet of our
     lives. We lose our jobs, we stop driving cars, former
     friends drift away and new friends come. It would be
     unreasonable to expect it not to have a major
     influence on our marriage. The balance of shared
     responsibility, of equality in duties, becomes a
     thing of the past as we enter into the phase of
     caregiver/patient. Slowly the duties of marriage, of
     day-to-day living, become more the responsibility of
     the caregiver, as the patient becomes unable to do
     the things once done with ease. Being a male, I can
     only relate this from a masculine point of view. I
     would think that females feel a parallel sense of
     loss, a deep change in the sense of sexuality. The
     essence of manhood, of the self-assured acceptance in
     the world of football and cars and Saturday afternoon
     lawn mowing, of having a few beers with the guys, of
     hunting and fishing and hanging around the hardware
     store have faded into history and the new world of
     medications, stumbling walks and sh aking hands moves
     in as a replacemen t. Within the relationship of
     marriage, the essence of sexuality also changes. The
     questions arise within ourselves of our mates' desire
     within the scope of our physical appearence. Of
     course we are the same person, but love and desire
     can become separate paths. The concept we hold of
     ourselves becomes different, feelings of self-worth,
     of acceptance, become clouded by Parkinson's. This is
     when love must change. It must become wider than
     before, more willing to accept the faults, the
     failures and the physical appearences. Either accept
     or fade away, to become just another memory.
     Love-making either comes from the desires of
     closeness and caring and deep bound love, or a
     desperate attempt to regain a lost past. As often as
     we try to rise above the physical, we are reminded
     that we are physical. We cannot deny our existence -
     physically, spiritually or sexually. To do so is to
     admit defeat to Parkinson's, to give up a part of our
     lives, to let part of ourselves die. I am blessed to
     have a caregiver which shares with me the strength of
     love that allows us to see sexuality beyond the
     physical. On the porch at sunset, watching the
     pastels of the day give way to the stars of night, or
     at three in the morning when I scream out in pain
     from a combination of angina and leg cramps and
     twisted muscles and tremors, she is there, holding
     and caring, willing to accept me for what I am. When
     our desires lead to caresses and no where else , I
     know our love is deep enough that we' re satisfied
     just to touch. But still, somewhere in my mind, are
     the doubts. Why? What if? Not doubts of my
     masculinity, I hope I'm far past that, but doubts
     nevertheless. Knowing it's going to get worse, I try
     to see into the future. Five, ten years from now,
     what will we be like? Will the roles become more
     pronounced? What if the situation were reversed, if
     she had PD and I was the caregiver? Unanswered
     questions, an empty place on the pathway through
     life. How have you found the answers, or have you?
     ***Jerry***