A problem at home caused me to stay four days with my parents. It was indeed a hard experience. Apart from the fact that I had to keep the girls quiet so as not to disrupt their programme or just the general tediousness of not feeling free I also had to come to terms with my parents' aging.
It's a subject I wish to avoid. I pretend they are not getting old. Indeed, they help in this pretense by going on little trips and keeping social. But being with them 24x7 made it difficult to pretend.
My mother's posture is cramped due to osteoporosis and my father's stride is not what it used to be. They were handsome people once. But their virility is leaving them.
I wonder if they are embarrassed by what they've become. I sometimes look at my own reflection in the mirror and feel
But here we are - all of us getting old and older until time eradicates us altogether.
Reminds me of this anonymous beatitude:
Blessed are they who understand
My faltering steps and palsied hand.
Blessed are they who know my ears today
Must strain to catch the words they say.
Blessed are they who see that my eyes
Are dim and my wits are slow.
Blessed are they who looked away
When I spilt the cup of tea today.
Blessed are they who know the ways
To bring back memories of yesterdays.
Blessed are they who make it known
That I'm loved, respected and not alone.
Blessed are they who know I'm at a loss
To find the strength to carry my cross.
Blessed are they who ease the days
On my journey Home in loving ways.