My dad is 64.
A year ago, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. This year, they added to his diagnosis, basically putting a label on all the unlabelled symptoms and shortening his expected life span.
He gets antsy when staying put. Standing for 10 minutes means he needs to lay down for 20. Sitting for 30 means he needs to get up and walk around for a while. Last fall, he flew to visit me, with one hour in the air and one hour on the road and it was a rough experience all around. Dad also has some weird cognitive thing where he gets a bit loopy at night. Hallucinations and stuff like that.
He has recently realised that travelling back to his home country, a nine-hour flight if done directly, will soon become impossible in practicality. So this fall, he's flying home. He's taking a more expensive route with breaks to hopefully make things easier, along with avoiding flying at night. He's planning things as if it is the last time he'll go home.
Up until this point, it's felt pretty normal, I guess. Family getting older has felt like a normal thing and not bothered me all that much.
But then he added something to his itinerary that hit me: sibling dinner.
My dad is planning a dinner with just his siblings. The last dinner he's going to have with his siblings.
My dad is like a band doing a farewell tour: this is your last chance to see him live.
Levi Breederland
P.S. I once followed a person who sent my favourite message on the previous incarnation of this site and to this day, they are one of my favourite non-friends on social media.