
I’ve been questioning what defines me: mother, daughter, sister, wife, friend, Christian, American. One would never know for sure by looking at me, right? But when you look at me today, you know that something is not right. At first glance, in that moment, I am defined, not as a mother of two beautiful daughters adopted from China, or as a wife of twenty years, or a daughter, a sister, a friend. I have Parkinson’s disease, and that is what defines me first. It was never easy getting beyond that first impression. I’m not bothered as much anymore
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