Bought plane tickets last night to go home and visit my parents during Christmas (flying out the 20th, flying back Christmas night*). Called Mom to let her know about her Christmas “present”, and she was excited, but then said “he’s not THAT sick, you know”.
I do know that. Dad isn’t going to die from Parkinson’s in the next six months, or year, or maybe even ten years. Maybe he’ll outlive me. I have spent most of my life trying to distance myself from my parents, that is true. We’ve had our problems, that too is true. But the past few times I’ve gone home, they have treated me as an adult and respected my decisions (even if they disagreed with them). Now, I want to go home and have good times to remember while we can. Before we can’t.
* I love flying on Christmas. You get free headphones, extra peanuts, and drink coupons. Everybody is really nice, like we’re all suffering in this together, but we’re not. Because I love it.