Give a Damn!

It was my turn to move away from home. It was time for me, like they say, to go behind my dreams. And I was sure. My entire world was sure that my father would not deal with it well. I knew he wouldn’t wave goodbye without shedding some tears - joyous and anxious. (Somewhere I was proud of it. Proud of being his girl with whom he cannot stay.) And finally that day arrived for me to fly out and as I walked away, I noticed something was different. He didn’t shed tears and his look told me a thousand things that I couldn’t then perceive. Everyone around including my mother said he had prepared himself well for this change and was strong. But somewhere behind my mind that image remained.

Tiny details but the most important things seemed different whenever I went home. He didn’t play his usual doze of morning music which was like an energizer to wake up for us all our life. There were not many evenings where movies were discussed to tiny details. Those evening walks where keeping up with him was not easy now seemed alright. Somewhere behind my head all this was loud and yet like everyone I believed it is just part of growing up. I mean growing old.

And then 3 years after I waved that goodbye, all this took a new name. It took a few years to sink in. Even now I think it’s not happening; it’s not there if I don’t see it. It is the kind you only see if you look into the very corner of your eye. Parkinson’s is like that – it’s always there, doing its own thing, sort of plotting.

Lately I have been encountering so many situations where I meet people who are going through varied scenarios – diseases like Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s etc. (Till a while back I thought it was real rare. It sure is not everywhere around but there are quite a few around each of us) or even anxiety troubles, depression and the like. The only thing coming to my head is – EMPATHY.

It is rather upsetting that these situations swallow people around us. Cases of anxiety and depression are constantly echoing all around. How sure are we that nobody from our own closed circuit is struggling to dig through a tough shell? How often do we spare the time to look beyond ‘Kids these days’ or any other generation-battle statements and ask our children what is bothering them or making them so aggressive or even sad? Are all couples finding time to sit down and ask each other if the sun is shining bright, storms raging fiercely or has it been a starless night for a while? Do we know if our best friend is in fact alright when they tell us so or are we capable of holding them through that happy façade they have painted in the air and tell them they’re going to be fine?

A little more sensitivity. A little more observation. An eye for tiny details and changes. A look out for your loved one always. Especially the ones who live with you under the same roof. The obvious physical changes should not be our wakeup call. Empathy is all you need to track those mind altering changes.

It is not easy. It gets more difficult when you hear of yet another way someone’s misunderstood or jumped to conclusions about what you or your folk is going through. But it is fine because we all find our own paths through it.

Through the last few years I’ve seen people put a lot of focus on my mother, sister and myself, on how brave we’re being. I don’t think we’ve been brave for a minute through this journey. I’m not the one taking a dozen tablets a day to subdue something inside me. Dad’s strength is unbelievable. All I hope is we’ve been empathetic. I hope he feels that we are there for him because that kind of medicine heals better.

And also, never confuse Empathy with Sympathy. Never.

“Give a Damn. Many Damns. More Damns than anyone.”