Not the End of the World: the Redmond Family Navigates Parkinson’s Together

“How would you describe your family… in just one word?”

It’s a tough prompt, condensing generations of relationships and achievements into mere syllables, but if there were ever a family to field a challenging question, it’s the Redmonds. They are – collectively – a well-read, thoughtful, and unique clan.

“Affectionate,” responds Marilyn Redmond, the family’s matriarch, who has been attending Power for Parkinson’s seated exercise classes for a dozen years. “We’re all loving and caring.”

“I would say ‘Unified,’” adds Gabriel Chupco, Marilyn’s grandson who volunteers with PFP, often twice a week at the classes his family attends.

“Nomadic,” says Gabriel’s mother, Elizabeth Chupco, before her brother, Kieran slyly dispenses any sentimentality in the air.

“Disfunctional.”

The Redmond Family: Elizabeth and Gabriel Chupco, and Marilyn and Kieran Redmond.

We’ve gathered around a table for an après-exercise interview, following Debbie Rosenberg’s Strength & Balance class, which the Redmonds attend en-masse each Thursday. When I was tasked with writing on the topic of family, the Redmonds were obvious subjects. Because they’re a fascinating lot, and because three of them live with Parkinson’s.

Since Elizabeth answered “Nomadic,” I asked her mother to trace back the places the family has called home. Marilyn, in her eighties and still sharper than most people half her age, charts their historical course without pause.

“We started in Lafayette, Louisiana. Then I moved to Austin to go to school and Elizabeth came with me. Then I married [my husband] Wally. Then we went to Peru and Kieran was born there. And then we went to Mexico and [my youngest daughter] Theresa was born there. Then Elizabeth moved back to the states and we went to Germany. Then we came back to Austin.”

It was the work of her husband, Wally, that brought them all over the world.

“People think Wally’s a missionary – he’s not,” Marilyn clarifies. “He is a philosopher and his speciality is the colonial philosophy in Latin America, which is a field he opened up that had been long neglected – and he is the authority in it.”

Several of Walter Bernard Redmond’s books and dissertations from prestigious international universities are still in print. They have titles like The Three-Stranded Cord: Calling a Truce in The War Over God and Human Freedom and the influential Bibliography of the Philosophy in the Iberian Colonies of America.

Kierin notes that Marilyn is also a published author.

“I published three novels,” she concedes. “Only one was any good.”

A children’s chapter book that Marilyn wrote, Henry Hamilton, Graduate Ghost, was published in 1981 and adapted into a weekend TV special on ABC. It’s about a Civil War ghost who graduates from Spiritual Specter University and is then assigned to haunt a modern suburban family. According to Elizabeth and Kieran, the children in the book are homages to Marilyn’s real-life kids.

The book was successful enough to merit a typically outlandish sequel: Henry Hamilton in Outer Space, in which the same Civil War ghost stows away on a space shuttle.

******

Elizabeth, or “Liz,” the eldest of Marilyn’s children, was the first to be diagnosed with Parkinson’s. She had a tremor in her right arm that she’d been blowing off, thinking it was probably carpal tunnel syndrome. Eventually, her handwriting became tiny – a common symptom of Parkinson’s called micrographia.

“My handwriting looked like a horizontal line and I couldn’t even read what I’d written,” she recalls.

Liz was just 46, so it was surprising when her doctor referred her to a neurologist, who diagnosed her with PD.

“At the time, I didn’t know anything about Parkinson’s except that Michael J. Fox had it – that was my point of reference,” she says. “And when I was diagnosed, the physician gave me a copy of Michael J. Fox’s book: Lucky Man. In it, he said that if he hadn’t gotten Parkinson’s, he would have been a jerk for his entire life. He credited Parkinson’s for making him human. I have always hung on to that – in the sense that you have to see the positive in it.”

Marilyn, on the other hand, wasn’t diagnosed with Parkinson’s until she was 72. She’ll never forget the inciting incident: she was walking on the Town Lake trail with a friend and her body became cramped and stuck in a hunched over position. A few days later, it happened again and that’s when she went to see a doctor.

“I learned about Parkinson’s when Liz was diagnosed and, for that reason, it was a lot less traumatic when I was diagnosed,” she reveals. “I had learned from her that it’s not the end of the world.”

Marilyn and Liz say they exhibit different symptoms of Parkinson’s, but they were both aware of the condition’s telltale signs. Thus, one day, when they were walking behind Kieran and noticed that his arms weren’t swinging as he walked, they raised the issue. By that point, he’d already noticed a slight tremor in his thumb that would only happen while his hand was on the steering wheel.

Kieran, then the same age that his big sister had been when she was diagnosed, made an appointment with a neurologist, received a DaTscan, and was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.

“I told the doctor ‘Thank you,’ went out in the parking lot and cried,” he recalls. “Then I got on the road, pulled off the road, cried some more, went back home, and isolated myself – didn’t talk to anybody. All my plans were going down the toilet at that point.”

Both Liz and Kieran, who the family calls “Pip,” continued working after being diagnosed. Liz’s employer was very understanding and accommodating. She retired last year, at which point she began coming to Power for Parkinson’s classes routinely. Kieran continues to work full time.

Throughout their Parkinson’s journeys, the family has helped and supported each other.

“Pip moved in with me and he took care of all the heavy lifting, both physically and emotionally,” Liz smiles.

“Well, now Gabriel is taking over a lot of the heavy lifting,” says Kieran. 

The Redmond Family at Debbie’s Strength & Balance Class

******

When you’re considering three people from one family, spread over two generations, it’s natural to wonder if the condition manifested due to genetics or environment.

“I suppose it could be genetic, but my guess is environmental because we lived in heavily contaminated areas,” explains Marilyn. “We all lived in Lima, Peru. We all lived in Mexico and we all lived in South Louisiana where there was a lot of contamination when we were there.”

“Mexico was among the last countries to ban DDT and it was still in use when we lived there,” points out Liz.

“And, in Austin in the Sixties, there were trucks that sprayed for mosquitos,” adds Marilyn. “It would come right in front of our house and the kids would all run behind it.”

“Because it smelled good,” confirms Liz.

Adding to her belief of environmental causation, Marilyn notes that her youngest daughter, Theresa, does not have Parkinson’s and was born after the family lived in some of the most polluted places.

******

“If it wasn’t for something structured, I wouldn’t do any exercise,” Marilyn contends. “Otherwise, I’ll keep putting it off, like ‘I’ll get around to it later and never do it.’”

That’s why Power for Parkinson’s has kept her exercising regularly for over a decade – the free, group fitness classes are part of her routine and there’s a group of people expecting her: volunteers, instructors, and fellow participants. When one of her neighbors was diagnosed with PD and felt lost, she told him about PFP and drove him to the classes for years.

Nowadays, the whole family comes to class together. But on a recent day, Marilyn wasn’t feeling well, so Liz, Kieran, and Gabriel were at a class without her, which gave me a chance to ask about how much she has influenced them coming to group exercise classes.

Kieran smiles. “Yeah, she made us go.”

“That’s right,” laughs Liz.

“It’s hard to get up and exercise after working nights,” reveals Kieran. “I don’t know if I ever would have gotten around to coming if it weren’t for her.”

Consider that a validation of life’s most fundamental advice: Always listen to your mother.