Parkinson's Moving Day: It's a small world after all

It's a world of laughter
A world of tears
It's a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There's so much that we share
That it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

Saturday was the annual Parkinson’s Moving Day walk, in Chicago. An annual event that began in 2012, it’s now held along the lakefront near Soldier Field and McCormick Place. My first time attending was in 2013—almost a year after being diagnosed with the disease.

I was all gung-ho about attending my first walk. I figured it would be a great learning experience. I knew there would be people dealing with the same thing as me. What I did learn that day was that everyone’s journey with Parkinson’s was not the same. I met people in various stages of the disease. Some folks you’d never know they had Parkinson’s, while others were much worse off. It was hard to look at them and not think this could be your destiny.

But, when you walk with hundreds of people and you share life stories with them while looking at such beautiful scenery, it’s hard not to be positively affected. I left my first walk knowing that I would return the next year.

It’s now eleven years later and I still look forward to the walk each fall. I’m still excited about meeting new people and hearing their stories.

There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to ev'ryone
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all

When the walk began on Saturday, I was at the start of the pack. I found a group wearing matching purple t-shirts. I asked what their connection to Parkinson’s was. I was told they were a company developing new medicines to help slow down the progress of the disease. Interesting—sort of—but I didn’t drive more than an hour to come downtown to talk to a vendor.

I then tried to see if I could find someone closer to my situation. I saw a group wearing “Moving for Mom” shirts. They’ve been at these walks as long as I have. Let’s see if they have an interesting story. Boy, did they!

The woman I began talking with turned out to be the sister-in-law of ‘mom.’ She gave me the basics. ‘Mom’ was diagnosed more than a decade ago. Mom’s daughter formed a group to raise money and her family and friends came out each year to support her. It’s a story you hear from so many teams.

But, here comes the fact is stranger than fiction. When I asked where they were from, she said Deerfield, a northern suburb. I said I was, too. When she asked where in the city, I described the location as close to the Portillo’s near Lake Cook and Pfingsten. So did she! After a bit more back and forth, it turns out that we live in the same townhome complex, one block from each other. I can walk to her house in less than five minutes—and do so almost every day. After looking at each other closer, we realized we’d seen each other occasionally around the neighborhood.

Out of hundreds of people, I picked a neighbor. What are the chances of that? I told her I wanted to chat with the person who had the disease. So we parted with a “see you around the neighborhood goodbye.”

Five minutes later, I found her sister-in-law and her husband.

I spent the rest of the walk talking with them. After I explained the neighborhood oddity, they said they also reside in Deerfield. Okay—play The Twilight Zone theme! However, they live in the far north part of town—phew! More importantly than house locations, I was able to trade PD stories with ‘Mom.’

While she’s a couple of years younger than I am, the disease looks like it’s hit her slightly harder than me. But, that doesn’t stop her! She still works part-time. She has played golf and tennis. Now she’s part of a Parkinson’s group that plays ping-pong on Tuesday and Thursday at a local hospital. I did that earlier this year at a different location. It’s not only fun but challenging. Plus it’s a lot more competitive than you would expect.

Her story is inspiring, but it’s not the only one that you hear on these walks. There’s plenty of the same—it more than breaks even for the painful, heartbreaking ones you also hear. That’s a big reason why we keep coming back year after year.

As I was driving home I realized that I was so engrossed in conversation that I didn’t spend any time checking out my surroundings. I missed out on the beautiful scenery of Lake Michigan. Oh well, the Lake will still be there next year—and so will we.

It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small, small world