Life with Parkinson's Post #11- Excerpts From My Story entitled 'Isabel'

We opened the unobtrusive front door and stepped inside. The smell that permeated our nostrils was undeniably varnish; newly varnished wood floors. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life as this beautiful wood beneath my stocking feet. It was my first experience with wood floors. I was unable to decipher why I loved them so intensely. As we walked from room to room each was the same beneath our feet; gold striped satin that reflected my body as I moved. There was so much room here. I could get lost in the glorious roominess. We were about to embark on our first 'new home' adventure; newlyweds, four kids, and two cats. It would be a trick to make the payment. We decided as a family that we would sacrifice to do it and in return we would have 'room'! It was practically next door to the school our kids would attend for the next four years and in a respectable neighborhood. It was not spacious to some eyes. However, for us it was a castle. Space to walk without bumping corners. We endured a tiny apartment for as long as we could. The most fun we'd had in a long time was sliding from room to room in our stocking feet. There would be no heavy furniture for the first month until the new finish cured. It was a long month with all the furniture piled in the kitchen, garage, and one room with carpet but it was worth it. I was obsessed with the floors. They were a balm for my increasingly troubled mind. I cared for them lovingly. Something about them haunted me. Some months after I had my family settled in I realized why! People danced on floors like these. I could dance on these floors! The one I had to thank for this treasure of knowledge was my new husband, the love of my eternity. Before long, however, the joy of my new home, and lovely dance floors faded into the engulfing cloud of failing health. It was becoming evident to me and my husband that something was wrong, very wrong with me. How could it be? Oh, how could it be?

**************

I continued looking at my dance shoes still upon my feet; feet I had always regarded as somewhat large. They looked much smaller when I wore these shoes. The shoes had a life of their own. My feet did not hurt when I danced in them as if they transferred new energy to my feet each time I put them on to dance.

My eyes wandered to the mirror to determine how my dress had come through the performance. Were there any broken stitches or rips? No. I didn't see any. It wasn't uncommon to rip a seam during a dance. The fabric still felt good against my skin. I stood up in front of the dressing room mirror and began to twirl. My eyes never tired of watching the flaring skirt in the mirror and feeling the air move around me as my feet turned. My arms would move out for balance and the spin would pick up speed; the dress flaring our further. When I came to a stop the dress would bounce back to its starting position next to my legs.

I sat down again as my thoughts turned from my shoes and dress to my dance partner. He loved my flaring dress as much as I did. What a wonderful performance we had experienced. He had made this night possible for me. I suddenly wondered if he had gotten lost on the way to the dressing rooms. As I sat there immersed in my thoughts of him, he appeared in the doorway behind me reflected in the mirror.

"Hey, pretty lady. Do I know you? You are some dancer!" he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"It's a stunning dress. You look beautiful in it."

He paused, his eyes taking me in as his emotions caught in his throat.

"You did well. They loved you. I love you."

It was always like this. He would build me up expecting nothing in return. He was an exceptional dance partner, soul mate and husband. What more could I ask for?

I moved to him and we were immediately swept into each other's embrace. We often remained this way a long while, savoring the heart to heart contact. Neither of us wanted to be the first one to pull away. We, somehow, knew when to release our grasp together. This moment was no different. We pulled back and looked at one another. I saw warmth and happiness in his face.

"You're the one who makes me look good", I replied.

"Thank you. Thank you for tonight!"

"You are most welcome", he answered and softly kissed me.

...to be continued