I arrived in my parents’ home this evening, amid the disarray of a home upset by the serious illness of a family member, with a noisy oxygen generator in the corner wheezing and bubbling, sounding like something out of a comedy skit that is in very poor taste, seeing my rail thin father come in shuffling slowly as if he were 90 and not 62, all of this coming after walking out of the secured area at the airport and having my mother burst into tears at the sight of me because she has been dealing with seeing her husband so weak for so long and feeling completely helpless about it.
Not a holly-jolly Christmas time this year.