Regular readers here may remember I mentioned that my father is on hospice. By hospice I mean in-home end of life care. My dad was smart and planned ahead; he had four kids to take care of him in his final days. My mom is shouldering the brunt of the caregiving load and the rest of the family has been pitching in whenever we can be in town.
He’s mostly out of it now, so there’s no sense in me telling him I feel like we kids got a raw deal. He got to see us during the birthing process, now we have to see him in the process of dying. (Truth be told, he probably opted out of viewing the high drama of the actual events and sat it out at a nearby bar awaiting word from the doctor like most men of his generation did. I tend to be old-fashioned about certain things, and also a bit squeemish, so I would have no doubt done the same thing if my wife and I had decided to have a kid.)
Anyway, he got to enjoy seeing us grow; now we have to see him fade away. When you think about it, it’s a pretty raw deal for everyone.