I sit here this morning to write and weighing heavily on my mind is what the future may bring.  As I prepare for a journey back home to visit my parents, I am consciously bracing myself for whatever news I will receive once I get there.  My mother has been having her battles with health issues, and this visit was planned based off of some of that, however, events have occurred since my first thoughts on going back to see them.

We all have a fear of something.  I think most of us fear the day we lose our parents.  Some of you may have experienced this already, some are far from that day.  I do not know how close to that day I am, but that fear is niggling.  With aging parents, we are the sandwich generation…raising children of our own, and caring for our ailing parents.  This becomes much more difficult to do when the distance between us is as great as it is.

And the words my father sent me haunt me… no surgery as planned, will tell you why when you get here.  Why no surgery when it was deemed necessary?  I try to not focus on this too much.  Not without all the information to make any sort of judgement.  So I wait.  I pack and prepare for the journey.  Housesitter/petsitter…check.  Laundry done and packed…check.  Gardens weeded and ready for the time away…check.  House cleaned…check..sort of.



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