My dad's business partner died this week from a long and protracted battle with cancer. I didn't know him very well, I just wasn't that interested in business things. But it did make me think of some other people in my life: my parents.
I never thought I would get old enough to see my parents as grandparents. I don't know why, it just never occurred to me that they would get older like my grandparents were at one time.
Now that my people my parents' age are dying, I think about my parents.
I don't like thinking about this.
I'd rather live in blissful ignorance.
I wonder if my parents felt as I do when their parents were their age. Did they wonder what would become of them? Did they wonder how they would die? Did they ever see themselves being the adult and not the child in these relationships?
That's how I see myself. I am perpetually the youngest sibling, the youngest child. They are the adults. That's it. But will it change? Will they get senile like my grandparents? Will they become a shell of their former self like my grandparents did?
I try not to think about this. It makes me ill.
I know my parents will read this, and I hope they know, that I am so thankful for them, that I love them, that I am so proud of them. It was too late for my grandparents. At that time I was impatient and young, having little energy or time to cope with their senility. I regret that. I wish I had appreciated them when I had the chance.
That's why I try to help my parents now. That's why I go home, tell them I love them. I don't want it to be too late. I don't want to live with more regrets.
I love you Mom and Dad.