Pondering the importance of routines for my dad, who has Parkinson’s

A younger version of my dad lived for spontaneity. In his late teens and early 20s, he hitchhiked around the country in the spirit of adventure. One of his most significant early journeys took him from his home state of Michigan to Alaska, where he found work in a local logging camp. He was only on the job for two weeks before someone died after getting crushed by a tree, and Dad decided to pivot.

While in the harbor, Dad caught wind that a captain was looking for experienced seamen. Dad quickly volunteered himself, claiming that he’d spent plenty of time on the water (having grown up on a lake in Michigan). To the captain’s chagrin, the boat had left the harbor before my dad’s lie was discovered. Dad knew very little about the demands of ocean fishing. So, he learned — quickly.

It’s been a long time since Dad roamed the planet like a contemporary pioneer, collecting misadventures like badges of honor. Whether it was the passage of time or two chronic illnesses that changed him, Dad’s life looks a lot different these days.

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In my own mind, I cite the first illness as the reason for his domestication. He got sick in his 30s, then married and started having kids, bringing stability and grounding to his life.

Dad’s Parkinson’s diagnosis came nearly 30 years later, following a tremor in his foot. His life was transformed again, practically overnight. Then he refined his daily routines, doing so more and more each year.

The impact of Parkinson’s

As my father’s child, I operate with much of the spontaneity that he adopted in his early life, catching flights to distant places week after week. My own hitchhiking escapades have thrown me right into the fire, leaving me exhilarated and full of joy.

After a decade of my own misadventures, Dad sometimes tells me that I’ll settle down. But I purse my eyebrows and stubbornly tell him he’s out of his mind.

Still, I wonder.

For a long time, I thought that humans tended to lean more into routine as they aged. Maybe it’s a result of changes in neuroplasticity? Maybe old dogs can’t learn new tricks? Maybe something switches in our heads, and suddenly, the importance of familiarity outweighs the need to follow in the footsteps of Tom Sawyer?

Will I, like my dad, settle down?

I’m not sure. But I think that illness has shaped Dad’s life in more ways than he cares to admit.

When it comes to navigating life with Parkinson’s, the reality is more nuanced. The disease is inherently uncertain, forcing my dad to adapt on a day-to-day basis. Maybe that’s why routine has become so essential to his comfort. With symptoms that shift in severity every day, maybe creating predictability in the other avenues of his life makes for a more pleasant existence.

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