Bitterness and hatred, though they crush your soul, are easy ways through all the things people have done and haven’t done to you. Love—to wholeheartedly trust, accept and forgive—takes much more strength.
My parents are growing old, whether I like it or not. They’re not yet at a point when it manifests in them so evidently that they call themselves “old people”, but somewhere before change, there’s always a boundary that is crept over.
Maybe they don’t notice their aging slowly coming through. Maybe they’re in denial. Maybe they’re unbothered by it.
I think about it a little more often than sometimes.
I realize it every time I have to let pass whenever they can’t hear me as clearly as before. They counter that it’s because I’m soft-spoken, but I speak with the same loudness as I do almost anywhere else.
I realize it every time they forget things here and there. While it isn’t being much of a hindrance to anything yet, I am crushed by the fact that people’s memories deteriorate—piece by piece by piece.
I realize it every time I have to run errands for them, since they are getting more easily tired and sickly. One by one, I offer to take over what used to be their responsibilities as they themselves may embrace that their bodies are wilting away. I’m afraid of the time when I’ll have to do the entirety of what they’re doing.
Moments flash in quick succession, both good and bad. The times they had my back and built me up simply because I am who I am. The times they gave me cold looks and their blunt words pierced through me. The times they were my guiding light and I knew my way. The times they dimmed out and I was lost. The times they’d tell truths, the times they’d utter lies, and the reasons why they did. All that they gave in abundance, and all they admittedly lacked.
I cannot afford to be mad at them anymore, not even for the worst reasons there could be. Our lives run on a time limit. It’ll be all but another forthcoming page in my story to move along knowing they’ll be gone. I’d hate to drown in sorrow because of it, though. I don’t want them to feel as if I am sad because I’m thinking of them. Nobody likes being the reason for someone’s tears. Instead, in such difficult times when I nearly forget what to do, I remind myself,
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