My life has gotten harder. I am at home, sitting with my Dad. He is getting weaker, and isn't eating well. He is 89, and has end stage COPD.
He smoked for 50 years, before finally quitting 24 years ago. Some say that way back then, no one knew that smoking was so damaging. Dad says that is not true. He says they knew, but smoked anyway. Sort of a "devil-may-care" attitude, I guess.
The young have an immortality complex, believing that there is always time to change one's ways, to eat healthy, to drive more carefully, to set aside money for old age. How many pay for that attitude with their health, their lives...?
As we get older, we slow down, are more careful. I have gotten very careful, because I have fallen enough times to be leery of the next misstep, the next thing to trip over, or fall off of.
That last one has my boss a bit steamed, especially since I needed a CAT scan the last time I fell off the desk chair.
My back is a mess right now, mostly because my Dad is weaker, and has fallen quite a bit. I have to keep him safe, but it does a number on me, too. I wish I could get more help, but, right now, that is not doable.
So, I do what I can, pray, and go on with my life, which has become entangled with Dad's, and Mom's.