When My Parkinson’s Got Worse, My Children Started Whispering Behind My Back, Took My House Keys and My Papers… Then One Morning, They Drove Me Into the Mountains and Told Me to Get Out

When My Parkinson’s Got Worse, My Children Started Whispering Behind My Back, Took My House Keys and My Papers… Then One Morning, They Drove Me Into the Mountains and Told Me to Get Out

This  photo was taken on the day I thought my own  children had finally decided to get rid of me.

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People look at it now and say,

“What a kind smile that old man has.”

But they do not know that only twenty minutes before this picture was taken, I was completely broken inside.

My name is George.

I am seventy-nine years old.

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Three years ago, my doctor said the word that slowly began changing my entire life.

Parkinson’s.

At first, it was only my right hand.

A slight tremor.

Then my spoon began tapping against my plate.

Buttoning my shirt started taking forever.

Sometimes, when I walked, it felt as though my own legs had stopped listening to me.

But the illness itself was not what frightened me most.

My greatest fear was much simpler.

That one day, my children would look at me and stop seeing their father.