My prayer square got me thinking last night about the ways in which we have to watch our parents age and the emotions that run parallel. It was helpful. There were two other teachers and a nurse.
I feel, in no particular order: love, pride, guilt, anger, remorse, anxiety and fear when I think about my parents getting older. It is my generation which argues that it is not fair that I have to be more responsible now, whether I want to or not. So I feel guilty that I am not prepared for this. I didn’t choose dad’s age and I don’t want him to be weak. But there are other emotions. I feel excitement; we will go away with mum and dad to a beautiful part of the country after Easter. And hope; the future will hold any number of positive and good things. And assurance too: they are safe, dad is slowly improving and we can still relate to and have a good relationship with them.
I guess there is no more denial, anger, grief…
I feel as if I have been invited to accept this invitation. At some point we all are.
You are cordially invited to…
…witness a loved one suffer, watch them change and look to the future differently.
No dress code.