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Rick from Bellingham, Washington said: "Anybody out there having trouble keeping close to some of your old friends, now that you feature a progressive brain disease? I am noticing subtle effects, a kind of distancing, that I can't quite put my finger on. Part of it is that I'm just tired, and don't do as much as I did two years ago. I'm not feeling shunned, just a little ignored because I'm not out there socializing much." ---------- Rick - As you get more into Parkinson's you will find two factors that contribute to loneliness, our own withdrawal from our friend and our friend's withdrawal from us. We can do something about both of them. (And about finding a cure so we won't have to put up with PD any longer! Which is why we ALL need to support Pennies for Parkinson's!) I wrote the message below a number of years ago, back when Parkinson's was new to my world. I've heard the lies - "Oh Jerry, I can't come over tonight. I have paperwork to do." "I would love to get together for dinner but Mary and I are real busy. I'll call, okay?" You find out who your real friends are, who is going to walk beside you and who is going to walk away. I saved a very precious friendship with this letter, which I will share with you: Dear Friend, You haven't been by to see me in quite some time. I wondered about what happened, if I said something that offended you, so I started asking around. Word finally got back that you were uncomfortable around me because of the Parkinson's thing. That's why, instead of calling, I thought I might write you a note. Maybe I can explain a little better to you about the way I feel. The last time you came over, I was having a lot of physical problems. Parkinson's is like that; good for two days, bad for three. Before you come, call. I'll tell you honestly if I'm up or down. That way you know what to expect. But don't avoid me. Inside, I am still the same person I always was. I can still beat you at chess, still out talk you over religion and politics. I can still laugh at all your jokes, still feel sad when we talk about some of our lost friends. I'm still me. Don't be afraid to talk about the things you see. My hands shake, my walk is unsteady. I know that. It isn't a secret. I'll tell you about what I'm going through, about the medications and stuff. You need to know so you will feel comfortable when you see something happen. Parkinson's isn't contagious, it isn't even life-threating. Chances are, I'll live just as long as you, although I'm trying for one day longer, just to prove the point. Just because I've accepted having Parkinson's doesn't mean that I've accepted defeat. I'm still fighting. But the fighting would be so much easier if you were around. Why? Because we used to talk about everything and I miss that. We used to laugh at stupid stuff and I miss that. We used to punch one another in the arm, work on our cars together, tell lies, talk about kids - and I miss all of that. We used to get sad together, remembering the things in the past. We made a vow never to talk about those things outside of our friendship and I need to talk about them with you. I'm still the same. Nothing inside has changed, only the outside. That's why you don't need to feel uncomfortable around me. We've traveled too many miles together to let something like Parkinson's come between us. So I'm asking you - call me. Come visit. Let's talk about today, tomorrow, ten years from now, because the future will be so much richer if you're around, and so much poorer without you. I might have Parkinson's, but you snore, so I'd say we're about even. I've missed you. As always, I'll be here for you, waiting for you to call. Jerry Finch -- Help us save the horses! Habitat for Horses, Inc. A lifetime home for abused, endangered horses. http://www.habitatforhorses.org/