My uncle knew his Parkinson’s tremor could be mistaken for something else
He wondered if fellow churchgoers thought he was just 'catching the Holy Spirit'
Written by |
“Brandon, remove your hat before we go up in the Lord’s house.” My aunt said it under her breath, but pointedly. Uncle Brandon wasn’t hearing any of it.
His baseball caps were part of his signature style. He was an East Texas countryman from the Piney Woods, and hats had been part of his wardrobe for decades, including throughout his working years. Even getting him into a cream-colored suit for Easter Sunday felt like an accomplishment.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m coming as I am. Ain’t that what the Word says?” I stood behind him, trying to stifle my laugh.
Uncle Brandon wasn’t much of a churchgoer. He respected my aunt’s faith, bowed his head when someone prayed, and occasionally prayed himself, but regular church attendance simply wasn’t his thing. As his Parkinson’s disease progressed, I sometimes wondered if he became a little more open to faith. I can’t say for certain. I do know that getting him to church that Easter Sunday felt significant.
Maybe the cream suit helped. The hat, however, was staying. He had another condition for attending church that day: He wasn’t participating in what he called the front-pew culture. My aunt, who was active in her church as a missionary, might have been comfortable near the front. Uncle Brandon most certainly was not.
“The back is fine for me, thank you very much.” There was another reason he preferred it there.
Before service, Uncle Brandon had mentioned something to me that made me laugh but also seemed to contain a genuine concern. As his Parkinson’s symptoms had become more noticeable, so had his tremor. He knew this church could be expressive during worship, and he didn’t want anyone mistaking his involuntary movements for him becoming overwhelmed during the service or “catching the Holy Spirit.”
In Uncle Brandon’s imagination, someone might even come rushing over with a blanket. Only him.
I agreed to sit in the back with him, and for most of the service, everything went just fine. He got to watch his grandchildren give their Easter speeches, which he enjoyed. The choir sang, and the minister delivered the kind of energetic Easter message that could get a congregation going.
As the service became more expressive, I noticed Uncle Brandon shifting a little more.
Tremors are one of the most recognizable motor symptoms of Parkinson’s disease. But being recognizable doesn’t necessarily mean being understood. Visible Parkinson’s symptoms can sometimes be misinterpreted by other people, and as Uncle Brandon’s symptoms progressed, I noticed him becoming more conscious of the attention they could draw.
Every so often, I noticed someone glance in his direction. I couldn’t know what anyone was thinking, and nobody said anything to us. But I remember wondering if they were trying to determine whether Uncle Brandon was simply sitting there or beginning to participate in the service a little more enthusiastically than expected. His expression usually provided the answer.
He remained focused on the service, seemingly indifferent to whatever was happening around him. Nobody came running with a prayer blanket. Nobody interrupted him. Easter service continued.
Navigating visible symptoms
Later, we asked how he’d enjoyed church. “Pretty good,” he said. Then he mentioned something I hadn’t realized until that moment: He had noticed the looks, too. He wondered why people in his row kept glancing at him whenever his tremor became more noticeable.
And because he was Brandon, he wasn’t going to leave the observation there. He joked that they were probably getting ready to bring holy water over because he was about to burn the pew up. Our family exploded in laughter.
I laughed then because his delivery was hilarious. But looking back years later, I hear something else in that memory.
As Uncle Brandon’s Parkinson’s progressed, I noticed him becoming more conscious of how people saw him when his symptoms were visible. Walking into an unfamiliar environment meant people might notice his movements without knowing why they were happening. He couldn’t control every assumption someone might make about what they saw.
I think that Easter Sunday required a little more vulnerability from him than I understood at the time. But there was no grand lesson from Uncle Brandon afterward. And although I noticed that he was apt to attend more public events after that Easter outing, he didn’t tell us he’d conquered a fear or discovered a newfound love of church.
He went to Easter service. He sat in the back where he wanted to sit. He watched his grandchildren. He noticed a few looks. He made us laugh afterward.
And despite my aunt’s best efforts, he did every bit of it in that baseball cap.
Note: Parkinson’s News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Parkinson’s News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Parkinson’s disease.
Leave a comment
Fill in the required fields to post. Your email address will not be published.