My father has been in hospital since last night - pulled something in his leg that has made it where he can't currently walk unassisted. I think they're going to keep him a few more days. I'm running on about four hours of sleep and trying to arrange my thoughts.
The reality of the situation? He'll be 80 on Saturday. The emotional reality? I lost my mother and I don't like it when the health and safety of my remaining parent is in question. Yes, he's old to have a child my age. Tough. We all have different situations we must deal with.
So I know realistically that he's getting older and his body is starting to break a bit...but the fear in my stomach...the uncertainty in my voice...and the knowledge that he can't go back home right now because he can't take care of himself is almost overwhelming. Last Christmas seems like a billion days ago.
This is heartbreak. Heartbreak isn't shoved into the tiny boxes reserved for former lovers better left feeding your roses...instead it's larger and contains more volume...it's family...it's friends. It's your reality. The changing of your reality...even when you thought you were prepared for change.
It's watching him age. The bruises that come from nowhere. The age spots on his hands. The shriveling of his toes. The double catch when trying to stand. The shuffle in his walk.
This is heartbreak. This is reality.
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