The Threads That Remain

“For one beautiful day, I was given the opportunity to see them all at once.”

Sometimes we don’t realize how many threads are holding us until we stop and look back.

Yesterday marked one year since my Parkinson’s diagnosis.

I shared a reflection on social media, uncertain about what would follow. I expected a few comments from close friends and family. Instead, over the next twenty-four hours, messages began arriving from every corner of my life.

Friends from childhood and high school. College friends and sorority sisters. Cousins, aunts, and extended family. Former colleagues and patients. Friends from Vashon Island. Family members from both chapters of my married life. People I have not seen in years. People I think about often and people I had not thought about in a long time.

The response was overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

As I read each message, I found myself imagining all of these people pausing for a moment in their busy lives to think of me, send a note, offer encouragement, say a prayer, or simply let me know they were there.

I felt surrounded by kindness.

And I felt something else.

For some time now, I have been carrying a quiet longing for connection.

The past few years have held tremendous change. Divorce. A move. Leaving familiar communities. A new home. A new job. The loss of my mother. A Parkinson’s diagnosis. The work of rebuilding a life while learning to navigate a future I never expected.

Although I have been intentionally creating a beautiful new chapter, there have been moments when I have felt surprisingly alone.

Not lonely in the sense of being without people, but disconnected.

Disconnected from old friendships by distance and time. Disconnected from communities that once felt familiar. Disconnected from parts of my former life that I loved.

Yet yesterday brought an unexpected realization.

What I had been feeling and what was actually true were not the same thing.

I am not disconnected.

I am deeply connected.

The evidence arrived in waves throughout the day.

It arrived through memories shared by friends from decades ago. Through messages from former patients whose lives I touched and whose lives touched me in return. Through cousins, classmates, colleagues, neighbors, and family members. Through people who have witnessed different versions of me throughout the years and somehow still remain connected to the person I am today.

As I reflected on all of it, I realized that one of the greatest blessings of my life is the people who have traveled alongside me.

Some walked with me for years.

Others shared only a season.

Yet the threads remain.

And for one beautiful day, I was given the opportunity to see them all at once.

Perhaps that was the real gift hidden within this anniversary.

Not simply the encouragement. Not simply the support surrounding a Parkinson’s diagnosis.

The gift was remembering.

Remembering how fortunate I am to know so many genuinely wonderful human beings.

Remembering that love does not disappear simply because years pass.

Remembering that connection can remain intact even when lives move in different directions.

And remembering that I have never truly been alone.

There is something deeply comforting about that.

I will be responding personally to the many messages I received, but I wanted to pause here and offer my heartfelt gratitude.

Thank you for your kindness.

Thank you for your encouragement.

Thank you for your prayers, your stories, your memories, and your love.

Most of all, thank you for reminding me of something I had forgotten.

I am not disconnected.

I am deeply, beautifully connected.