Parkinson’s changed my uncle’s role, but not what he brought to the table

Fall has a way of bringing back certain memories. Cooler weather (thank God, because it has been brutal!) makes me think about football, the changing leaves, and, unfortunately, dead deer.

That last one is courtesy of Uncle Brandon.

He loved deer hunting. Growing up in the Piney Woods of Texas, hunting was something he knew well, and he wasn’t the type to do only part of the job. After a successful hunt, Uncle Brandon could field dress and process the deer himself. He’d skin it, prepare the meat, and eventually turn some of it into homemade deer sausage.

As a kid, I found the entire process disgusting. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with seeing how that sausage became sausage. Somehow, though, I managed to reappear once the finished product was ready to eat.

For the record, I never loved deer sausage. I tolerated liking it. Maybe watching how much work Uncle Brandon put into making it convinced me that I should at least appreciate the end result. Looking back, though, the work itself tells me something about him.

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Doing more of the work

Brandon liked knowing how to do things from beginning to end. Hunting wasn’t simply about bringing home a deer. There was knowledge involved, and he had spent years developing it. He knew what needed to happen after the hunt, how the meat should be handled, and how to turn it into something his family could eat.

As his Parkinson’s disease progressed, the physical demands of that process became harder for him to manage completely on his own. Eventually, his sons and friends began doing more of the hands-on work. That could have meant the end of Uncle Brandon’s involvement. Instead, his role changed. He was still there.

When his hands couldn’t perform every step as they once had, he could tell everyone what needed to happen. Someone else might be physically doing the work, but he still had years of experience stored away. In a sense, he learned how to be the hands verbally.

The adjustment

I’ve thought a lot about what that adjustment must have been like for him.

Uncle Brandon wasn’t someone who showed a great deal of emotional vulnerability. He wasn’t likely to sit me down and explain how it felt to need help doing something he’d handled independently for years. Through my empathic nature, I learned to pay attention to other things instead — his expressions, his tone, and the little ways he responded to changes around him.

I can’t say exactly how he felt about giving up some of the physical work involved in this tradition. But from what I witnessed, accepting that he needed other people’s hands seemed significant. There was also something reassuring about seeing that needing help didn’t mean he had to disappear from the process. His knowledge still mattered.

That’s one of the things Parkinson’s caregiving taught me about adaptation. Sometimes adapting means finding a different tool or changing how a task is performed. Other times, it means allowing someone’s role to evolve without assuming they no longer have a role at all.

Uncle Brandon’s sons, nephews, and friends could provide more of the physical labor. He could provide the experience. And in the process, something he’d spent years doing with his own hands became knowledge other people could carry forward.

There was no grand announcement when that transition happened. I couldn’t tell you the final deer Uncle Brandon processed completely by himself or the last batch of sausage that was entirely his work. The change happened gradually, the way so many changes during his years with Parkinson’s did.

Now, when fall rolls around, I sometimes think about those hunting seasons and the deer sausage I begrudgingly ate. I still maintain that I never liked it nearly as much as everyone else did. But I appreciate it differently now.

When Brandon’s hands couldn’t do everything they once had, his loved ones supplied the hands. He still supplied the know-how. Through it all, the show went on. The process just adjusted right along with him.

And looking back, I think there was something pretty special about that recipe, too.

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.