Chasing bubbles/desperate to surface

It comes to us all. Old age. Joint and muscle failure and the betrayal of wits that refuse to respond to command.

*what is that word? I knew it a moment ago and not it's gone. Goddammit shit to hell. What is that word!*
-my dad

*He doesn't look comfortable. I think he needs to pee. Where is everyone? We're paying a fortune for this.*
-my mum

My multi-tasking superpower has met its kryptonite. Managing the high-end residential care providers for my parents + renovating new home in a new state + plus earning a living + writing + large extended family communications + husband and dog who would like and occasional kiss + …

So all of a sudden, every day is desperate surge for the surface, following the bubbles of hope and ignoring the heavy weight of the vines that are constantly wrapping around me…

I can and will do this.

The only thing worse than old age? The lack of it.