So my son said he talked to my father the other day and he said his breathing was so labored he couldn't talk very long. My daughter called him today and he told her he was too tired to talk. I spoke to him last week and he told me my mother was bowling. I asked him why he wasn't going bowling with her and he told me he hasn't been able to pick up the ball for a few months.
My father has had two bypass surgeries. One 27 years ago and one about 12 years ago. He is 84 years old. He apparently isn't long for this world. At 53 I feel blessed that I have both of my parents at this point, but I know that won't last for long.
DW got a call tonight that her dad was on his way to the emergency room. DWs mother passed away in 2002. Her dad is no spring chicken either. She is convinced there is something drastically wrong with him. She is always pessimistic and I am always optimistic. She is more worried than I am. I worry more about her than I do about her father. Maybe I should worry more about her father. I hope not. As I look over to (S) and see her sleeping peacefully on the chair, I can't help but be thankful for what I have had, DW has had, and she may never know. She doesn't even ask for her mom and dad much anymore. She hasn't seen or spoken to them in about 6 weeks now and won't for at least another 6 weeks. More likely never again unless there is a goodbye visit at DHHS.
Each time I talk to my dad now I am acutely aware that it may be the last time. I think DW feels the same way about her dad.
But we got over 50 years. (S) didn't even get 2 good ones. Maybe we need to rethink our position.