Dear friends,
(I have composed the poem below
to thank Niki Hoose and her staff
at WETA in Washington , for allowing us
PWP's (Persons with Parkinson's)
to be, through our dear friend HiLary BLue,
one giant glimpse more visible than ever before.)
-Ivan Suzman, PWP, Portland, Maine, 49/39/36)
FOR HILARY BLUE
Arched wrists and poised, wrinkling hands
slip magically across yellowing ivories,
and allow the sweet sounds
of the second movement
of Hilary's Sonate Pathetique
to float softly from her pianoforte.
A hidden maestro says
secretly to her, "slowly and
heavily, my dear girl! You must remember
that only I control your metronome."
"At my command, you must
play it with tremolo. For I am
the PD Maestro, the black-caped wizard
that can stop you in your tracks."
She carries herself, however,
with a determined grace,
as she makes her passages
in adagio cantabile. She glides, even if
effortfully, in open Defiance to the Maestro,
in dreamy leggiero and legatissimo.
Elegantly, almost impossibly,
she outwits the evil maestro,
repeating for her daughters to hear,
as her father did for her long ago,
sonatas played to soothe her tired ear.
When not writing letters to other Parkinsonians,
or arranging yellow irises, yellow daffodils
and South African proteas from a fond admirer,
she is a magic-filled healer and lyricist.
Her day begins by getting up at 2:50 AM
to board a 5:00 AM bus to Richmond
for Lobby Day from 9:00 to 4:00 PM.
Time passes.
Nearly up to tempo,
and molto espressivo,
she swings arms and legs to unstiffen them,
dynamically underplaying the quicker movements
of her more limber Parkinsonian companions
in gymnastic struggles for some release
from the stiffening command of the Maestro.
A miracle could be happening.
Hilary is one of the first
Young Onset PWP's
to emerge from her chrysalis.
She seems to say,
"If I am fit to float arpeggios
and trills and harmonies,
if I can journey to RIchmond
to help disabled citizens,
then surely the nightmare
that removed my daughters from me,
from my family piano studio
to the recesses of two faceless foster homes,
when I suddenly became a young widow
threeyears ago,
has gone on long enough!"
"Why shouldn't Jessi and Jane Amy be allowed to go home,
and hear mom play notes written
for princesses and queens?"
Hilary's spirit is like a gracious butterfly
flitting by on a June morning's wind.
I wish she could sting like a bee, too,
and spin the city of Richmond around
to hear her tune.
I wish the fathers of Virginia would see
the wisdom in releasing Jane Amy and Jessi
IMMEDIATELY,
so that they might watch their mom play
Beethoven, or perhaps emulate her courage.
I wish for my cyber-cousin Hilary's children
to be able to play
Bach's two-part Inventions
with mom. Or maybe three-part inventions.
The state has classified Hilary as
an "unfit mother." Does that mean
that a swan could be crushed into
a pigeonhole? Can a musical spirit
be understood, let alone categorized
as unfit? II rather doubt the premise
of such a taxonomy.
I would ask the authorities of
Virginia to recognize the heroine-ism
of Hilary, who with courage and determination
has broken through the barriers, for
all of us "PWP's", who has through
her music and her love for all of us
said " I am fit to be a mother!"
As fit as royalty she is
indeed.
Indeed, Virginia has an opportunity
to lead.
Just as we in Maine are supposed to do,
under our motto,
"Dirigo."
I ask the authorities of Virginia now,
to provide the home health workers
and the homemakers needed.
Hilary can be helped to be all of the
beautiful mother she was meant to be.
Let her share with her children,
before the PD maestro makes another move,
the rare gifts that God and Goddess
have bestowed upon her.
So I prayerfully ask Richmond to release NOW
to release NOW
to release NOW
Jessi and Jane Amy to their mother.
Let them learn the family culture
she is passing to us viewers,
through the televisions in our homes.
Miracles are graced with menorahs and candles
that promise the riches and history
of an ancient and deep faith.
Miracles can restore ancient rites of passage
back to Jessi and Jane Amy.
I believe that miracles can happen today
if you ask for them.
And so I ask, oh, Governor of Virginia,
can't you please allow Jessi and Jane Amy
to doze off tomorrow at home in Annandale,
with new memories of mom's courageous,
sweet,dark, gentle, brown eyes, glowing
with expressions of caring,
and brilliance?
The madness of separating mother and son
from daughters, of leaving their brother Jed
alone, robbed of his two sisters,
having already lost his dad,
can be ended.
Hilary's family can be reunited.
This is the moment to act, dear people of Virginia.
This is a miracle that can happen
