When standing still meant something different for Uncle Brandon
What we learned from his first episode of gait freezing
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One afternoon, my late uncle Brandon came inside after spending some time outdoors, and something immediately felt different.
Normally, he’d head straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before settling into his chair. That afternoon, though, he rounded the corner into the hallway and … stopped.
He didn’t sit down. He didn’t call out to anyone. He just stood there. At first, I thought he was thinking about something. Then a few more seconds passed, and I realized he wasn’t moving. “You OK, Unc?” I asked.
He mumbled something softly, but he still didn’t move. By then, my mind had already begun racing through every possibility I could think of. I walked over, gently placed a hand near him to steady him if he needed it, and after a few moments, he was able to move again. Once we got him seated, he carried on a conversation, drank some water, and seemed like himself.
That moment stayed with me. I remembered hearing his neurologist mention something called freezing of gait. Still, because Uncle Brandon hadn’t experienced it before, it became one of those terms I quietly filed away and hoped we’d never have to think about again.
This time, we did.
After following up with his medical team, they explained that what we’d witnessed was likely freezing, a Parkinson’s symptom in which a person’s feet can temporarily feel as though they’re stuck to the floor, even though their mind is telling them to move. It caught all of us by surprise, but it also gave us something important: understanding.
Uncle Brandon never made a dramatic scene about it. He rested his head in his hand for a moment and straightened himself up the way he usually did. I never asked exactly what he was thinking, and I wouldn’t pretend to know. From where I stood, though, it looked like one more adjustment in a life that had already asked so much of him.
A different kind of support
As time went on, our family quietly adapted alongside him. We started paying closer attention whenever he turned quickly, walked through narrow spaces, or seemed to be multitasking. We learned not to rush toward him every time something looked different. Instead, we’d stand nearby, ask if he was OK, and be ready if he needed us.
Sometimes we’d offer a gentle cue. Sometimes we’d offer an arm. Sometimes we’d just wait.
Believe me, that last one was harder than it sounds!
When someone you love appears to be struggling, every instinct tells you to jump in immediately. But we learned that helping Uncle Brandon didn’t always mean taking over. In fact, one of the greatest ways we could support him was by giving him the space to work through the moment while quietly letting him know we were right there if he needed us.
That balance mattered because his independence mattered. He didn’t want to be hovered over, and we respected that. We wanted him to feel safe without feeling watched. So our support became quieter. Less reactive. More intentional.
Looking back, I’m grateful that we took the time to learn about symptoms we didn’t fully understand, rather than letting fear fill in the blanks. Doing a little research, asking questions, and listening to his healthcare team helped us replace panic with preparation.
When I think about that afternoon now, I don’t remember it as the day Uncle Brandon froze during a possible off time. I remember it as the day we learned that sometimes the most meaningful way to help isn’t by rushing in.
Sometimes it’s standing close enough to catch someone if they need you, while standing far enough away to remind them they can still take the next step themselves.
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.
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