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Has anyone else on the list ever wondered if the aging of our bodies is God's way of reminding us we only have so much time to get our mission completed? I know if it wasn't for mirrors, and now the relatively rapid aging effects of PD, I would be surprised each time someone asks me if I want the seniors discount. On this list, with the anonymity of the written word, there is little sense of age at all, and I suspect that all of you share my lack of personal awareness of age, at least while you lie in bed with meds working well. With each passing year the whole concept of time blurs, and my life takes on the character of a big family album. I need only open to the right page and I am looking at my daughters in the crib, instead of standing by their sides looking down at my grandchildren in their cribs, Oops, now those grandchildren are getting ready for their first date, the page turned. Einstein or someone like that said time is an illusion, a construct of our minds, and I've come to agree by noticing that half my life went by divided in equal time periods into the time it took to raise a family and one trip to the dentist for wisdom teeth extraction. Pat and I spent yesterday and last night boxing our stuff for the movers who come this morning to take us from this three story endurance test to a single level home in the senior zoned section of our city (how neat to go from being the old folks on the block to the youngsters one last time). By the time we crawled into bed both of us knew our age, but as to Parkie, I am grateful to report I made it up and down those stairs at least a third as many times as I would have in the past, and I actually carried some stuff in the process. But back to the subject. This morning I woke thinking (sometime dangerous for my well being) that God and my soul must think I need a 4 alarm wake up call, a loud, obnoxious, and ever present Road Sign called Parkinson's with a message in such big letters that even I can't remain oblivious: "GET ON WITH IT CHUCK." Wish I knew for sure what IT is suppose to be. Love Chuck