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I remember when my Father learned he had Parkinson's. He had just turned 75. We were very close and used to finish each other's sentences.

I said, "Dad you know it's all about..."

"Attitude". He replied.

"You can let it get you down or you can fight it, it's your choice", I said.

"Right", he said.

The next day he went up north and set up a deer stand. I knew then how my father would face it.

He gardened, mowed the lawn, he walked in the woods, he fed wildlife, he did the dishes, he drove his car, he grocery shopped, he cared for my mother during her strokes getting down on his hands and knees to clean up after her and tie her shoes. He joked with his grandkids, threw them a ball, and when he had a triple bypass at the age of 78, he walked up the berm in his backyard numerous times to push them on their sleds.

I knew then that Parkinson's was no match for a will of steel and a heart of gold.