I drove my mom and dad to the hospital today. Ostensibly, for a “second opinion” on his ALS diagnosis. Realistically, it was a confirmation of what we already knew: He has short time left. His expiration date is set for 2 years. Make the best of it. The business of dying begins today. Get your affairs in order. Death won’t hurt. Dying will.
I live in a two family house and my parents live upstairs. I see them every day and so do my three Baby Goats.
For the entire drive up, about one hour, we didn’t say a word to each other. Small talk was wrong. Big talk was wronger.
With the finality of the news seeping into our brains, we said nothing again.
Then, half way home, my dad, looking straight ahead, said “take care of your mother.”
I can’t do this.