I first became aware of Michael J. Fox's work on the show Family Ties. If you are a child of the 80s, you are probably familiar with the show. I was hooked because one of the characters had my name, and that just never happens, but slowly and surely I began to fall for Alex P. Keaton. No matter that he was a....gak, Republican.

In 1985, my friend PN and I decided to see Back to the Future, because it sounded good and hey, MJF. The day we were to go, I received a letter from boyfriend RK. On the back, he had hastily scribbled "if you're having a good day, don't read this. if you're having a bad day, go ahead."

What fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old girl would not open that envelope? I knew before I opened it what it would say. Things were over. He met someone else. Long distance was far too hard, especially for people our age. And that's what the letter said. Even though I knew it, I was still in tears.

RK and I had been together for a long time. Our mothers, dear sweet things that they are, thought we'd make a good match. They traded our photographs, and with me and RK interested in a pen pal, we began to write each other. Friendship turned to young love. I went to visit RK in Arizona (with my mother along, yes, since it was really both families getting together), we swam and chewed grape Bubblicious, and RK bought me a piņata when we went over the border into Nogales.

The break up was not a surprise, and the friendship itself continued for another ten years before life really took us in opposite directions. I still have those letters and a few gifts sent through the years.

Back to the afternoon of the movie. Read the letter, was in absolute tears. PN showed up, asked me if I still wanted to go. I didn't know. She could relate, didn't want me to do anything that would be hard. In the end, I decided I did want to go, because we didn't know when else she'd be able to go with me.

My mind drifted to RK every now and then as we approached the movie, but once inside....the second MJF appeared on screen, I was hooked and fully drawn in. I laughed my butt off and the evening afterward was good. Things would be okay. RK and I could still be friends and really, I was only fourteen. I didn't need more than that. And hey, BS across the street is awfully cute...

This Friday, I was possessed by MJF's book, Lucky Man. I read it over the course of a day, which is really rare for me. I don't often consume books whole like that, but this book would not be put down. It's a fabulous book, one that helped me understand both my grandfather's illness and my own reaction to the news that MJF had Parkinson's.

When I heard about MJF's illness, I was a bit sad, but mostly I was pissed. At the time, I thought I was pissed because it took a celebrity getting PD to finally "merit" attention for the disease and funding for its eventual cure. "Oh well Mr. Big Mucky Muck has PD, let's get to working on that proper."

It was only over the course of reading MJF's book that I realized that wasn't what pissed me off at all. What pissed me off was that MJF, this person I had "known" since Family Ties....this person who brightened my world when I lost someone special in it...this person now had PD, the same insidious disease that ate away at my grandfather.

My grandfather was always a large man. I remember him balancing me on his hip and tummy while we surveyed a new batch of chocolate chip cookies. I remember walking hand in hand to the small farm just beyond their house to feed King the horse, and how Grandpa could pick me up so easily and hold me over the fence in just his hands to give King sugar cubes.

Parkinson's took that man away from me. Parkinson's made this strong man unable to lift even himself. He no longer walked, he shuffled, unable to pick his feet up without shaking. He would reach for the walls to steady himself, he would balance shaking fingertips on tabletops as he tried not to take a header into the carpet. I was often there to catch him when he couldn't catch himself. Me, my mom, my uncle. Grandma was too weak to catch him; she would simply go down with him.

And because of that, he eventually went to a nursing home, another thing which sucked his life away. Made him gaunt and quiet and hunched. But I saw the war inside his eyes, heard the little voice which called and said "I'm still in here, I just can't fucking stand this body any more."