I am sitting at my computer in the middle of the night weeping over the death of a man I did not know, but who represents the fate of each of us.

I remember reading Death Be Not Proud, so many decades ago, and feeling Johnny's father's pain as he searched for some good reason why his son had an incurable brain tumor. Johnny knew early on that he had little time to accomplish what he wanted to do, and fought valiantly to the end. Lke us, Johnny was continually reminded that his body, mind, and memory were failing him and there is no way to sugar coat that.

How many more of us must die before we say enough already? If there's going to be a cure for PD in the proverbial 5 to 10 years, we're going to have to make it happen by demanding change in a system that has failed us to date. Finding a cure for PD is not just about us, but about ensuring that our children and grandchildren will not suffer the same fate.

In the words of Dylan Thomas, "Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Sheryl