my father is 76yo. he still looks healthy (actually quite fat) and doesn't look his age. he struggles with his weight and his waistline. but still gives in to the cravings for ice cream, chocolate, lechon, kare-kare, lengua. i wish i could get him to eat healthier. well, both of them (dad and mom). but i dont have the heart to be dictator when i know they enjoy food so much.
lately, he has been having some stool problems. probably hemorrhoids. but the sad thing is, at his age, it could be worse. and so typical of people his age, he dreads going to the doctor and getting his laboratory tests. so he has been delaying that.
a frantic household help called me on my cellphone, fearful that my father might be having some attack. i rushed home and assisted my mother, who was also panicking. thankfully, it wasnt anything cardiac. just stomach spasms. but i am observing him. tomorrow, i take a leave to accompany him to the hospital.
the gay son's role is carediva, right? i can't imagine how my married siblings could take care of him, even if they wanted to. they all have their family priorities. and at this point, i can't help but feel blessed that i am gay. i feel really special, as if i was chosen for this purpose of taking are of him, of them. and though i have my own priorities (my career, my relationship), i know that taking care of them is way up there. no questions asked.
i also know that my parents are thinking the same way. they are thinking that they are blessed that they have this gay son who has chosen to stay behind and be with them (all my siblings are abroad). and committed for life to be by their side.
being gay is a blessing. that statement must qualify me for excommunication according to some quarters! but during moments like these, i feel that in my heart. and i am grateful.
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