Father

My father has aged at least ten years since I last met him, three months ago. His fingers have weakened, his voice has begun to slur. His body can”t keep pace with the mind. Hyper active, fiercely independant, my father is realizing he can’t be himself anymore. I know, he’d rather let go of this life, than ask his son to unscrew a bottle of whisky for him.
“I’m too old to change” he’d say