A godsend

I write how it comes to mind. There’s no sequence in how I ordered what I write. Saying that order implies sequence in what follows, contradicts itself because there are only consequences and no order of memories. There is disorder – a chaotic hodgepodge of memories, dreams, fantasy, and reality
But most of all, don’t let that discourage you from reading my story.
So what does this ‘Godsend’ have in store?

Turning fifty is usually worth celebrating. Fifty is a magical frontier, from then on the decay begins, the deterioration. As a man, you may sometimes be proud of the silvering of your hair, and think that it makes you attractive, but I started to notice that my recuperation capacity was starting to decrease. Making the effort, that was okay, but ’the day after, there is more pain than laughter’. That could be a wooden head, ‘La gueule de bois’ as our southern neighbours so beautifully put it.

Or just sore and stiff muscles and joints.,

Was that God’s gift paracetamol? Or tiger balm. That could have been; but if you are diagnosed as a Parkinson’s patient at the age of fifty, then the party is celebrated a little less exuberantly.
2011 was the year that I was confronted with the first symptoms. My strength in my right hand decreased, my movements became awkward, my stride became more dragging. And at first I thought it was Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. But that was soon ruled out; then be further tested and then finally the inexorable verdict follows.

I should have known better.

My father, ‘bompa Jos’, ‘Uncle Jopie’, was also on the list of lucky winners of this condition; He would never know that I was also rewarded and blessed with this debilitating disease.

That I have concealed it; I definitely wanted to avoid making him feel guilty, especially since it had some genetic factors. But I can’t blame him for the fact that a piece of DNA that we have in common has been tainted with a mistake. That’s why I didn’t want him to feel guilty.

That brings me to the following consideration. Suppose you were to find out in your unborn child, through a test, that it has a deteriorating disease; Would you have it taken away? Would you want to spare the child from a life with MS or Parkinson’s? I dare say now that I wouldn’t do it. My life has been really worth living. In more ways than one, it can be called ‘successful’.

Guilt might have been much more appropriate if I had never been born because my parents had decided not to have me after a positive genetic test. But then the thought that “you can never lose what you never had” still hangs like a dark shadow under the clouds of your existence.

It was a tipping point, and tipping it did indeed.. I had to reconsider everything. If I had known that I would have to sacrifice ten years without losing too much quality of life, I might have put different emphasis on the score of the musical of my life. No, they weren’t false notes. They were whole chords played in a sad minor key.

I decided at that moment that I wouldn’t tell the children; they were still too young and couldn’t estimate the extent of the impact. I had a hard time with it. It was a big blow to the bill.

My family doctor, the ever-friendly and good-natured Johnny Van Gerven, said, “It won’t kill you any faster.” That was a stroke of luck (really?). And also “You will make it to retirement, you will still be able to enjoy life for 10 to 15 years.” That was a comfort. But I can say that he was right. I’ve made it to retirement and I’m still enjoying my life a bit, … The challenge is sometimes big, very big.

I’m not very good at giving up.” Don’t cray for me Argentine”. No, I didn’t cry about it, I wasn’t angry, but I had to and I would organize my life differently with the emphasis on experiencing.
It was a downer for my wife at the time, Greet. I didn’t feel like spending time and effort on the beautiful, big house anymore; Not in terms of maintenance and no longer in terms of cleaning. The large garden, the 500 square meters of living space, that was too much.
I couldn’t bear to live there, and I didn’t want to burden anyone with the care I would need one day in the not-so-near future. My mobility would decrease, so I brought up the idea that a move to a flat without stairs would also have to be planned – and Greet didn’t feel like that.

I became selfish, started thinking more and more about myself and because of that, our relationship was on the rocks. I didn’t mean it all that badly, but if I wanted a life with a maximum of free choice and a minimum of accountability for the how and why, then we couldn’t move forward together.

Yes, I loved her, strangely enough, but true, and by that I mean that I couldn’t accommodate my new purpose in life without sparing her. But the urge was too great, and I didn’t want to be held accountable.

There was also a revolution at work, which suddenly gave me the opportunity to travel all over Europe with the aim of building and applying knowledge and innovation in European aviation. That came at just the right time. I got to know a lot of friendly and warm-hearted friends abroad and I saw that the choice I had made paid off in terms of my carpe diem; seize the day; Philosophy.

So apart from the marriage and the professional reorientation, I moved to an apartment on the Meir in Antwerp. It was an ideal location to serve as a base for the exploration of my interests and hobbies. Photography, fine dining, grabbing beers, meeting people, … it was an expensive investment, but I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunities that “The City” offered me.

The medication I took ensured a fairly good quality of life, even though I had to conclude afterwards that one of the side effects certainly led to a more decisive and impulsive urge to act. I dare to face that, and admit that I was no longer the pliable and soft personality I used to be. I knew what I wanted and I did it.
The fact that things would have turned out very differently if I hadn’t had Parkinson’s may be a cop-out, but I can’t live a ‘what else if’ life.

And that’s another piece of the puzzle that my life is, but there are still many pieces to be found before you find out what it looks like as a whole.