Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Rock as defined by "One that is similar to or suggestive of a mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability"

During the many runs I've ventured out on, early morning, late afternoon, after dark, I often find myself kicking up little rocks and pebbles or dodging and jumping around larger ones that lay in the path before me.  The definition of a rock, at least one of them anyway, by Websters is noted as "one that is similar to or suggestive of a mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability".  Those little pebbles that alter my stride also alter my train of thought during the many miles of pounding the pavement.  The Webster's definition creeps into my mind with a not-so-subtle reminder of why I'm out there, running, hoping and working for a cure.  While my NYC Marathon journey began in July our family's journey with Parkinson's Disease began nearly a decade ago.  Each passing year has brought on new challenges but has also given us pause to count our blessings.  For each family there tends to be that "mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability" that keeps everyone grounded, moving forward.  For the MacDonalds that stone has a name and her name is Terry, also known to me as mom.  Without reservation, hesitation or complaint she serves as the chauffeur for one that can no longer drive.  She often dishes out 95% sarcastic wit sprinkled with just the right amount of compassion that lets the recipient know she means business but it comes from the heart.  She is the sounding alarm clock when a certain someone is late to take a pill and the master of balancing fun excursions with doctor's appointments, pills and naps.  She never, not once, wishes her life was any other way.  She is the first to call my father "The Poster Boy of Parkinson's" and says more often than not "We are so damn lucky".  Her faith, her exemplary ability to reflect and live by the vows she took on August 29th, 1970 amaze and inspire me.  I love her spunk and sass, especially when she tells someone to get off their ass and vacuum (Parkinson's or not, dust still happens).  I am not only running this race for my dad but my amazing mom.  She rocks.  Plain and simple.   




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