Fuck - our parents are getting older!

When I watched the final season of "Grace and Frankie" the other day, it struck me again: we're all going to die. The big spoiler of life. Before we die, we'll get even older. And before we get older, so will our parents. This is very creepy. Just as shocking and just as obvious as the realization that Mom and Dad must have had sex. You can smile away that over time, dementia and heart attack not really.

I don't know when I realized that my parents are mortal. I definitely haven't accepted it yet. A world without her advice and shoulder seems like an insoluble puzzle to me. But with every physical "fault" I notice in them, I get one more piece of the puzzle. And the fates reserved for my friends' parents let me catch a glimpse of the picture on the box.

What were those times when my parents 'weaknesses' were a source of joy?

What kind of times were those when my parents' “weaknesses” were a source of joy? I can still remember the first time I was faster than my father on our run. I will never forget this slightly weary but proud man. The same applies to the moment when I devoured a 500-page book faster than my mommy. I felt like the smartest person in the world.

Now my dad would probably tear himself if he ran at the pace he used to. Me too though. And my mommy hasn't been able to hold a 500 page for a long time, arthritis is an asshole. But at least not deadly. Still, that's how it starts. The perfect facade crumbles and the ever-young demigods in suits become people who are not yet ancient, but also no longer young. Their starter kit includes pill boxes, reading glasses, and asthma sprays. Who can still shake a leg, but sleepily answer the phone at 10 p.m. more and more often?

How much can I admonish my parents to live healthier lives? When I ate currywurst myself yesterday at midnight.

And then another friend's father has a stroke and suddenly I realize how much empathy one can feel. For the shock, for the fear, for the sadness, but also for the questions. How much can I admonish my parents to live healthier lives? As her child and as someone who ate a currywurst yesterday at midnight. What are early signs and how do I recognize them before something bad happens? Especially if the parental home has a different postal code. And: What do I do if something really happens to my parents? Of course, care doesn't fit into my childless life in the capital - which I wouldn't even have without it.

Before that happens, we should call again and stop by again. Should be happy that we have our parents and that they are doing relatively well. At Christmas, smile about the quirks instead of getting upset. Had their nerves been as weak as we are today, nothing would ever have come of us. And above all, you should watch "Grace and Frankie". Because if there's one thing this series stands for, it's that there's life after osteoarthritis, vaginal dryness, and heart attacks - maybe the best is always ahead.

Sadness is watching them get old. Fuck - our parents are getting older!

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