Then There Was Me

The Road. . .

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Robert Frost’s Poem “The Road Not Taken” is an accurate emotional description on choices of change. The road we choose inevitably sends us along to a series of experiences that will lead us away from the original choice, the road not taken.  I can’t help but define the road I chose by the road I didn’t choose.  Invariably what factors change in my path if the choice was made for me.  My “road not taken” slowly disappears out of my consciousness, much like Marty’s family picture in “Back To The Future.”

Parkinson’s isn’t a choice. . .it’s a command. . .My one “Make a Wish” would be to have a choice.  To see two paths. At the very least to have that option.  However, as the poem suggests our choices and the consequences there of said choices all lead us further and further away from that afforded freedom; simply the ability to choose.  Perhaps Parkinson’s leads me faster and more furiously away from my road not taken.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;         5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,         10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
 Oh, I kept the first for another day

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back

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