Parents

My father is not doing well. I think he's on the decline slowly, yet surely. Looking at his weakness, his frailty, his stubbornness just brings me down. I am pushed to go over there everyday. My anxiety can barely handle the situations. I wish my mother was "there" to be the strong one, to be the one that is in control, to be the one to comfort all of us. Instead, she is oblivious. I wish Jack was here. Maybe for selfish reasons, but he would bring me comfort and joy while dealing with the situation. He would be my escape. Tables have turned. I hate seeing certain things. I hate dealing with certain things. But it's the least we can do for our parents, right?