This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_0058_01BDAC1D.3B51FD60 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Dear Friends: Another story. A little lighter, I think, than those previously = shared. A grand hug and thank you to one of our number who kindly has = taken the time to edit this piece and give me the kind of support one = writer gives another. (aside: I feel abundantly fortunate in having = found this group of people. The blessings that come with this damn = disease are few...but there are some, and you, my friends, well somedays = being with you just keeps me going, it really does.) TITLE: The Walk of Life The last image I have of my mother is the back of her small grey = head in the large front window of the house where I grew up. With a = quick bat of her eyes she had an uninterrupted view of both the TV and = our street. Chewing on her nails, with a cigarette in the ash tray, a = crossword puzzle on her lap, her stockinged legs wound around each other = and the television blaring, she would spend much of her idle time = thinking of ways to make me into a lady. She believed fiercely that the = best way to look like one, was to walk right. Ladies moved, glided, = eased, with grace, charm and elegance. Posture straight, head a balloon = of air, never bouncing, floating rather, above extended shoulders. = Ladies must never thump, strut, stride or swagger. Running was out of = the question, unless absolutely necessary. A deft smile, not too = generous, a smirking, secretive thing, that danced mysteriously under = the nose was the key to success. These were the lessons for survival = my mother wanted me to learn. "They'll do you all your life," she'd = say. And she might have been right, had I not, with many hopefull years = of moving and smiling still ahead, developed Parkinson's Disease.=20 Reflecting on these early years, I have happily landed in a place in = my acceptance of this disease where I can laugh, with compassion, at the = futility of my mother's good intentions. At the age of 4, I was packed off to ballet school once a week in = order to learn how to glide, float and quietly tiptoe. Gentle Miss = Eleanor beamed love and warmth, discipline and focus on our little = uncoordinated bodies for years. We worked hard on pirouettes, and = plies. We jumped, kicked and danced and danced and danced across the = floor, in perfect synchronicity to the music and each other. When I was = twelve years old I was good enough to trade my slippers for a pair of = toe shoes. The transition was too much for me. The wrapping of the = toes in sheep's wool before practice, the unwrapping of the bloody feet = afterward was too grinding a procedure just to learn how to walk right, = and I begged to be let out. My mother agreed, but so as not to lose any ground (I was turning = into an awful gangly teenager with either a coarse mouth or a sullen = pout depending on the day) I was immediately enrolled in elocution = classes. Here I learned more pointers about being ladylike: how to sit = perfectly still for endless time; how to walk with a book on the head; = how to speak softly but nonetheless to make a point (any point); how not = to attract attention. Those lessons have so far touched almost every = one of my shuffling, tremoring, rocking, nodding, and jerking symptoms = of this hideous fiend living in my body. (Some days I would very much = like to make a point, if I could remember what it was that I started to = say.) Our study material also had poingent lessons for me then and in a = converse way, for me now. One book was entitled "Charming You". It = purported to cover all the bases of possible intended movement. The = underlying folly was the author's assumption that there is only one way = to to approach a chair, exit a chair, enter a room, walk through and = close a door, bend down (knees only please) to pick up something, or = turn. There is only one way, of course, if you want to be a lady. One of the = more salient chapters is entitled "What to do with your feet while = standing". Here's a clip: "The hesitation stance: You have been walking and now have stopped, = with one foot ahead of the other. Putting your weight on the foot in = front, slowly slide the back foot (heel up, off floor) forward until its = instep is at the heel of the front foot. This is something no man would = do. But it's so pretty on you.": And another shows women how to check out their "bobbing" as they trickle = along a city street. "The store front window check: Watch the top of your head. Is it = shooting up and down like an erratic stock market report or does it = glide smoothly along, parallel to the window frame, as if you were on a = skate-board?" Before I was diagnosed with Parkinson's, I found these instructions = humorous in a sort of appauling way; a great discredit to the = upbringing of young women, a negation of their character or mental = development, and an intensity of focus on the trivial, the flaky, the = insignificant status in society young women were being prepared for. I = have trotted these volumes out from time to time and shared them with my = adolescent students, who are righteously angered by the underlying = assumptions these lessons represent. =20 But now I have Parkinson's Disease and the paradigm has shifted. I = see these illustrations differently. As contorted as it may seem, it = would be fun to just once more before I die, be able to=20 "Walk directly to the chair, neither rushing nor dawdling. Maintain = your good posture every step of the way. This is one of the most = important times to remember to lead with your thighs, because of a = tendency to lean the body way forward and to bend the knees as if = sitting, thus giving a sitting walk demonstration all the way to the = chair. Your walk, except for the direction you are taking, should not = even indicate that you plan to sit." If only I could do that...... = Now, that I've lost my chance I want it back. However I do have hope. A few months ago I started on the drug = Requip. While doing nothing noticeable for my tremor, it has still had = a major effect. I feel a new control of my gross motor movement. I = noticed the other day while walking down the hallway of my school, that = my feet were planting themselves more firmly in front of me. I had a = rhythm, a beat. I started to go with it. Let the meter lead me. My = strides became longer. I was moving. I started to smile, a broad, = generous, toothy smile. And for the first time ever, I turned my feet = out to the side and swaggered! I swaggered, and bopped and bounced. I = got my arms into it and swung them with vigor. I was flying! =20 If the little grey head in the window were alive today, and could = have seen me, she would, I know, have forgiven me. She might even have = applauded. She'd have known I had passed the "lady" stage, left it far = behind with the chill of being proper, controlled, demure and correct. = I was walking like me! =20 Barb Rager ------=_NextPart_000_0058_01BDAC1D.3B51FD60 Content-Type: text/html; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD W3 HTML//EN"> <HTML> <HEAD> <META content=3Dtext/html;charset=3Diso-8859-1 = http-equiv=3DContent-Type> <META content=3D'"MSHTML 4.72.2106.6"' name=3DGENERATOR> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=3D#ffffff> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2>Dear Friends:</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2> Another = story. A little=20 lighter, I think, than those previously shared. A grand hug and = thank you=20 to one of our number who kindly has taken the time to edit this piece = and give=20 me the kind of support one writer gives another. (aside: I = feel=20 abundantly fortunate in having found this group of people. The = blessings=20 that come with this damn disease are few...but there are some, and you, = my=20 friends, well somedays being with you just keeps me going, it really=20 does.)</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2></FONT> </DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2>TITLE: The Walk of = Life</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2></FONT> </DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2> <FONT = color=3D#000000>The last=20 image I have of my mother is the back of her small grey head in the = large front=20 window of the house where I grew up. With a quick bat of her eyes = she had=20 an uninterrupted view of both the TV and our street. Chewing on = her nails,=20 with a cigarette in the ash tray, a crossword puzzle on her lap, her = stockinged=20 legs wound around each other and the television blaring, she would spend = much of=20 her idle time thinking of ways to make me into a lady. She = believed=20 fiercely that the best way to look like one, was to walk right. = Ladies=20 moved, glided, eased, with grace, charm and elegance. Posture = straight,=20 head a balloon of air, never bouncing, floating rather, above extended=20 shoulders. Ladies must never thump, strut, stride or swagger. Running = was out of=20 the question, unless absolutely necessary. A deft smile, not = too=20 generous, a smirking, secretive thing, that danced mysteriously under = the nose=20 was the key to success. These were the lessons for survival = my=20 mother wanted me to learn. "They'll do you all your = life," she'd=20 say. And she might have been right, had I not, with many hopefull = years of=20 moving and smiling still ahead, developed Parkinson's Disease.=20 </FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000></FONT> =20 Reflecting on these early years, I have happily landed in a place in my=20 acceptance of this disease where I can laugh, with compassion, at the = futility=20 of my mother's good intentions.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> At the=20 age of 4, I was packed off to ballet school once a week in order to = learn how to=20 glide, float and quietly tiptoe. Gentle Miss Eleanor beamed love and = warmth,=20 discipline and focus on our little uncoordinated bodies for years. = We=20 worked hard on pirouettes, and plies. We jumped, kicked and danced and = danced=20 and danced across the floor, in perfect synchronicity to the music and = each=20 other. When I was twelve years old I was good enough to trade my = slippers=20 for a pair of toe shoes. The transition was too much for me. = The=20 wrapping of the toes in sheep's wool before practice, the unwrapping of = the=20 bloody feet afterward was too grinding a procedure just to learn how to = walk=20 right, and I begged to be let out.</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> My mother=20 agreed, but so as not to lose any ground (I was turning into an awful = gangly=20 teenager with either a coarse mouth or a sullen pout depending on the = day) I was=20 immediately enrolled in elocution classes. Here I learned more = pointers=20 about being ladylike: how to sit perfectly still for endless time; how = to walk=20 with a book on the head; how to speak softly but nonetheless to make a = point=20 (any point); how not to attract attention. Those lessons have so = far=20 touched almost every one of my shuffling, tremoring, rocking, nodding, = and=20 jerking symptoms of this hideous fiend living in my body. (Some = days I=20 would very much like to make a point, if I could remember what it was = that I=20 started to say.)</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> Our study=20 material also had poingent lessons for me then and in a converse way, = for me=20 now. One book was entitled "Charming You". It = purported to=20 cover all the bases of possible intended movement. The underlying = folly=20 was the author's assumption that there is only one way to to approach a = chair,=20 exit a chair, enter a room, walk through and close a door, bend down = (knees only=20 please) to pick up something, or turn.</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT color=3D#000000>There is only = one way, of=20 course, if you want to be a lady. One of the more salient chapters = is=20 entitled "What to do with your feet while standing". = Here's a=20 clip:</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> "The=20 hesitation stance: You have been walking and now have stopped, with one = foot=20 ahead of the other. Putting your weight on the foot in front, slowly = slide the=20 back foot (heel up, off floor) forward until its instep is at the heel = of the=20 front foot. This is something no man would do. But it's so pretty = on=20 you."</FONT></FONT><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT=20 color=3D#000000>:</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT color=3D#000000></FONT>And = another shows=20 women how to check out their "bobbing" as they trickle along a = city=20 street.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> "The=20 store front window check: Watch the top of your head. Is it = shooting up=20 and down like an erratic stock market report or does it glide smoothly = along,=20 parallel to the window frame, as if you were on a=20 skate-board?"</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> Before I=20 was diagnosed with Parkinson's, I found these instructions humorous in a = sort of=20 appauling way; a great discredit to the upbringing of young women, = a=20 negation of their character or mental development, and an intensity of = focus on=20 the trivial, the flaky, the insignificant status in society young women = were=20 being prepared for. I have trotted these volumes out from time to = time and=20 shared them with my adolescent students, who are righteously angered by = the=20 underlying assumptions these lessons represent. = </FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> But=20 now I have Parkinson's Disease and the paradigm has shifted. = I see=20 these illustrations differently. As contorted as it may seem, it = would be=20 fun to just once more before I die, be able to </FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT color=3D#000000>"Walk = directly to the=20 chair, neither rushing nor dawdling. Maintain your good posture = every step=20 of the way. This is one of the most important times to remember to = lead=20 with your thighs, because of a tendency to lean the body way forward and = to bend=20 the knees as if sitting, thus giving a sitting walk demonstration all = the way to=20 the chair. Your walk, except for the direction you are taking, = should not=20 even indicate that you plan to sit." If only I could do=20 that...... Now, that I've lost my chance I want it=20 back.</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> However I=20 do have hope. A few months ago I started on the drug=20 Requip. While doing nothing noticeable for my tremor, it has still = had a=20 major effect. I feel a new control of my gross motor = movement. =20 I noticed the other day while walking down the hallway of my school, = that my=20 feet were planting themselves more firmly in front of me. I had a = rhythm,=20 a beat. I started to go with it. Let the meter lead me. My = strides=20 became longer. I was moving. I started to smile, a broad, = generous,=20 toothy smile. </FONT></FONT><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT=20 color=3D#000000>And for the first time ever, I turned my feet out to the = side and=20 swaggered! I swaggered, and bopped and bounced. I got my arms into = it and=20 swung them with vigor. I was flying! </FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000> If the=20 little grey head in the window were alive today, and could have seen me, = she=20 would, I know, have forgiven me. She might even have = applauded. =20 She'd have known I had passed the "lady" stage, left it = far=20 behind with the chill of being proper, controlled, demure and = correct. I=20 was walking like me!</FONT></FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT = color=3D#000000></FONT></FONT> </DIV> <DIV><FONT color=3D#000000 size=3D2><FONT color=3D#000000>Barb=20 Rager</FONT></FONT></DIV></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML> ------=_NextPart_000_0058_01BDAC1D.3B51FD60--