Some words

How does one begin to write the story of a lifetime of happiness and joy. A lifetime rich with experiences most people will never have, from a perspective that most people will never truly fathom the depths to whence i traveled to tell these tales of work and Joy. The loss that I’ve experienced at the hands of others and the cost of trial and error of medications Durning the first few years of my diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease.

To know now what I’d soon learn in life, that Parkinson’s was going to be the least of my troubles. Shortly after my diagnosis of PD, my marriage ended as do 85% of the marriages that encounter PD. Then just a few years later I’d get the news of metastatic throat cancer,stage four and be given 25% chance of life. Cancer… The things they don’t tell you. They don’t tell you that most of your friends won’t show up. In fact most will silently worry in their own ways or they’ll block you out of their minds until one of two things happen, you die or heal. Cancer, what can I say. I almost wish it had killed me. After 6 weeks of radiation and chemo treatment, after 10 weeks or cumulative radiation damage only two weeks after my treatment ends I receive the news. That my last grandmother was in the process of dying. So instead of minding my health I did what I would like to think any grandson would do in this situation. I flew to her bedside in Nevada until she passed. This passing as all are was hard. It was a deep pain felt in the soul of our entire family. As life does in course of us all it continues, for me I still had more loss to suffer before I’d find my way home or atleast closer to what I had left of one.

Little did I know that being without a family during the healing process of cancer would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life to be continued….

My new friend Boo.

I thought I’d found unconditional love when I had a family. A wife, a daughter and son. Then I got sick, Parkinson’s disease and it’s medications wracked my body and mind.. I found myself alone with no family support. The family I created abandoned me when I needed them the most. Then came the cancer and 25% chance to live. After that I was alone again in the most dire way. I trusted a cousin to be my carer and she ruined me, I trusted the words of am old friend and tried to live again, to make myself something more than a guy with Parkinson’s, to be more than a cancer survivor. But I failed , Paula Huntley Tull stole everything from me and left me in the middle of the Arizona desert to die. By the grace of god and everything positive in the universe I was granted life, given the chance to live again and brought home to Oregon. Now I have a dog and a best friend. Someone who will always love me no matter how broken of a man I become. Once I was a whole human. Now I’m what remains of a man who just wanted a family, a man who had Always been a kind hearted , always a giving human. Anyhow this is my dog Boo. I hope you all are well and please try and remember me as the man I was and not the man you’ve made of me. Remember that I wasn’t the one who gave up, I wasn’t the one who walked away. I was the one who was asked to leave . Until we meet again in another life. Please know I gave everything of myself. I literally worked myself sick to give family everything I didn’t have growing up. I have my life for you and you took it and left me here to die alone.

B-2020

Hope, more than a word. The only thing I have left.

It’s been years and I can still hear your laughter as a child. I remember racing home after 16 hr days at work just to read you “If you give mouse a cookie.” To lay there and stare at the ceiling and hear about your day, your thoughts and dreams. I remember thinking, you are the kindest child I’ve ever met and then thinking how proud I was to have made you, to know you and be your Father. I remember family dinner ” that what the best part of your day?” I remember how much I miss you with every breath I take and how I wish I knew that you were okay, alive, or anything besides the void of nothing that stands between us now. I remember Ferry rides and walks on the beach. Easter egg hunts and birthday parties. I remember the only thing I ever wanted growing up was to have a family, a normal family with a normal life. I think we had that for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to ask for the help I needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man I was needed to be. Parkinson’s disease is ruthless, the medicines used to treat it are cruel and outdated yet here we are 11 years since that fateful morning your mother and I woke up only to find I could move and ever since then everything has changed. I hope wherever you are and whatever you’re doing that you know you are loved and cherished missed and needed.

Always benjamin, your Father, your friend and your biggest admirer.

Letters to my son: page 734

I wish I knew what to say. I wish knew where you were or what happened. I had cancer , you came to see me , I didn’t die, I tried so hard to live so that we could have a life together. I know it wasn’t the life we wanted to have or that we had as a family. I’m sorry for that change in our lives, but please understand that all the choices were not mine. Many of those choices were made for me or my reactions to things around me. I never meant for one second to lose you in all of this. Slowly as the chemo-brain fog and radiation treatments fade. In between the moments where Parkinson’s disease doesn’t have me running every which way. I see things clearly and yet I don’t understand why you are not here with me from time to time . Why did you have to disappear and where did you go. What happened between us that would take you so far away. I can’t imagine myself ever doing anything that would make you leave like this. I tried to give our family everything I didn’t have growing up and in many ways I did. We wanted for nothing. Little did I know the thing I didn’t give you was myself. Even though I gave you everything of myself , after 50,60,70 hrs of work a week providing for the family. There was barely waking time to be a family. Though my mind is filled only with joyful memories I can only assume that your are not. For if your childhood wasn’t the gift I thought it was I’m truly sorry. I did everything, gave everything I had and in the end when I got sick , it felt like everyone left . Left me to die , let me have this burden of Parkinson’s alone with no family to find shelter upon. No home to come home to. Then came the cancer and soon to follow a line of humans who would have rather taken everything from me rather than see me well. Tisha and Paula. Shame on you. So here I am yet again writing to you, writing to the world cruel as it is. Where are you? What happened to you? To us. I am here , I alive, not entirely lost to my diagnosis, painting and writing, growing green things and food to eat. Living a lift inspired by living well. I’m not rich anymore, I don’t have anything to call my own. No Physical reminder of my past. All that stolen from me in Arizona. Everything is worked for all my life of gone. Every gift, memory of my life ripped from me. Now I am truly and only a representative of myself. No fancy clothes or nice things, no house of my own nor future to offer. But I am and have always been a kind and gentle soul. Generous and kind to a fault. Naive to the true evils of man and womankind alike. I miss you my son and I miss my step daughter as well though it’s odd to say it that way as I never raised you as a step anything. So here I reach out knowing not what else to do. Here I leave a story written from me to you. In hopes before I’m gone , before PD takes my fully my ability to even recognize your face I hope with every heartbeat and every breath that I’ll have the chance to know you again. Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, please know that you are loved and cherished, missed dearly with every fiber of my being. I love you boo and wish I knew what to say or what to do to make you come back to me. Sincerely your Dad, your father. Benjamin M Prewitt.