The other day, as the wind literally howled and blew things from here to there, two Canadian geese went flying by with much effort, flying against the wind, squawking loudly as they went.
I looked up and watched them go by, feeling the wind against my face and smile as they flew with determination against the hidden force that tried to blow them out of the sky.
Life is like the weather. One minute the sun can be shining, renewing our spirits and the next a thunderstorm threatens to pour down upon us. PD can be like that windstorm, trying to knock us down and pull us from our determination to keep going on.
This week has been a little harder for me. I’ve noticed my meds aren’t working quite as well as I would like. My foot’s dragging a bit more. My right side doesn’t want to do what I tell it to. My balance is off. My words are more jumbled than usual. There’s more pain.
I’m in a windstorm, pushing against the wind of this life while fighting to keep flapping my wings as I press on.
As I watched those two crazy birds pass by above, carrying on about something as they were pushed here and there by the force of the strong gales, I realized with each flap of their wings, they were getting stronger. Fighting against something they couldn’t see, they knew without a doubt it was there, as it pressed hard against them, trying to knock them down. Nevertheless, they kept going. As they fought to stay up, they became stronger each time their wings flapped up and down.
I stood, watching them and decided that I want to be like those geese. I want to stay up when this disease tries to knock me down. I want to fight hard and become stronger because of it. I want to squawk loudly so that others will know I refuse to give up.
Next time you hear the geese overhead, look up. I might be leading the pack (in spirit anyhow).