Fighting for My Mom—Supporting Her Mission to Beat Parkinson’s!

Parkinson’s Disease—A Journey I Never Saw Coming

I never thought much about Parkinson’s Disease—why would I? Life was full of joy, love, and brightness. We were happy. We were a family that did everything together. Then, out of nowhere, life changed in a single moment.

It was my first year of middle school, seventh grade. I remember flashes of those early months—my parents going to countless doctor’s appointments, their faces a little more tense, and their presence a little more distant. I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew something was wrong. And then, one sunny afternoon, it all came crashing down.

I got off the school bus, excited as any seventh grader would be, ready to hang out with friends or relax for the evening. My mom was sitting on the bench waiting for me, as she always did, but this time was different. She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t sorting through the mail with her usual grin. She was sitting next to my dad, and I felt this wave of dread wash over me.

When my mom said, “We need to talk,” my heart sank. I remember hearing the words, “Mom is sick, but she’s okay” and then, “Mom has Parkinson’s Disease.” I didn’t understand what it meant—I was only 13. All I heard was the word “disease,” and I was terrified. I felt my world closing in, and I didn’t know what to do. Would my mom be okay? Would she change? Would I lose her?

But the hardest part was what followed—silence. Parkinson’s became a secret, something we didn’t talk about. My family didn’t want to share it, so I carried this unbearable weight alone. I couldn’t tell my friends, my teachers, no one. Every day, I walked around with a knot in my stomach, terrified of what the future held. Even at home, it was barely spoken about.

Time passed, but the fear didn’t. In high school, it became harder to hide, and by college, it hit me like a tidal wave. My freshman year at UConn was one of the hardest periods of my life. Being away from home made me feel powerless. I cried constantly, haunted by the thought of my mom suffering and me being too far to help. I wanted to protect her, but I couldn’t. All I could do was wait for the next phone call, hoping it wasn’t bad news.

But then something happened—my mom didn’t let Parkinson’s define her. She didn’t crumble under the weight of it. Instead, she rose. She fought back. She took this diagnosis and turned it into something extraordinary. She founded Beat Parkinson’s Today, an exercise and support program for the Parkinson’s community. What started as a small idea has blossomed into a movement, spreading across states, helping people worldwide, and changing lives—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Every day, her phone rings with people desperate for help, and she never says no. She believes—no, she knows—her program can change their lives. She’s living proof. She has taken what should have been her darkest days and turned them into hope for others. And every single person she touches walks away stronger, more inspired, and more determined.

My mom is my hero. She’s the strongest person I know, and she’s dedicated her life to helping others fight their battles with Parkinson’s. But the truth is, this fight isn’t easy. It takes a community—it takes all of us.

As we approach Giving Tuesday on December 3rd, I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart: please help us continue the fight. Your donation can help expand her program to reach even more people, provide financial assistance to those in need, and support groundbreaking research working towards finding a cure.

Every dollar counts—for my mom, for me, and for the hundreds of thousands of families just like ours. Your support means more than you’ll ever know.

Parkinson’s may have changed our lives, but it hasn’t taken away our hope. My mom is proof that even in the darkest of times, there is strength, there is resilience, and there is always a reason to keep fighting.

Please, help us fight the fight by donating this Giving Tuesday. Let’s make sure no one has to face Parkinson’s alone. Together, we can change lives.

Join us in the fight.