Getting Older

I got a text from my sister tonight, with news I never wanted to hear but I know was coming one of these days.  She reported that dad's health is deteriorating fast and that I should call her.  Guilt set in instantly.  Last Wednesday, a text from her warned that mom and dad were both down with the flu, and the whole household is sick.  So I kept the kids home on Friday night and didn't follow the ritual of visiting my parents for dinner on Friday nights.  I had wondered about dad's health when he had to fight the flu while diabetic and a serious smoker.  But distance helped because the problem is not at sight.  Now, with that call, it felt quite close to home.

Dad is apparently diagnosed with stage 2 kidney disease.  I had asked him in the past two to three months why he looked so much older recently, and that he looked more yellowish.  His response was typical, "Nothing. Everything is the same.  Can't worry about everything."  Now that I know why, I am a bit upset at myself, and at him.  I feel helpless.

I had known from watching my older colleagues talk about taking care of their aging parents that my day would come sooner than I would want.  I don't know how to approach this problem.  But I am sure between my sister and I, we'll work something out that will help my parents get old comfortably and hopefully happily.

And while my parents are getting old, I am getting older.  I asked Ethan if he would take care of me when I get old, just like how I am taking care of him now.  He was silent and looked away.  I got really mad.  Just earlier that night, I had accidentally kicked the dishwasher and my foot was bleeding from broken skin.  Artimus instantly looked for bandate and neosporin.  Then out of the blue, during dinner, she said that she and Ethan should take care of mommy when mommy gets hurt just like how mommy takes care of them when they get hurt.  Ethan was silent again.  So I asked Ethan if he would take care of me.  All he said was, "I am thinking!"

Great.  Just great.