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***
