HobbitFeet wrote:both my parents are alive and in reasonably good health - despite everyone thinking I'm 74 my mum is only 65, my dad is older and as he approaches his 80's I see how he has become so much frailer, the thought of losing him scorches my heart so much, that some days I think hurry up and get it over with as the enormity of life without you is something I'm going to have to learn to live with, but right now I just have some horrific anticipation
I've not explained that well sorry
I have so much to say about your post.
Just not tonight. Maybe never on here. This quote from C S Lewis goes some way to explaining:
“Why do I make room in my mind for such filth and nonsense? Do I hope that if feeling disguises itself as thought I shall feel less? Aren’t all these notes the senseless writhings of a man who won’t accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it? Who still thinks there is some device (if only he could find it) which will make pain not to be pain. It doesn’t really matter whether you grip the arms of the dentist’s chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on.
And grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen. It gives life a permanently provisional feeling. It doesn’t seem worth starting anything. I can’t settle down. I yawn, I fidget, I smoke too much. Up till this I always had too little time. Now there is nothing but time. Almost pure time, empty successiveness. One flesh. Or, if you prefer, one ship. The starboard engine has gone. I, the port engine, must chug along somehow till we make harbour. Or rather, till the journey ends. How can I assume a harbour? A lee shore, more likely, a black night, a deafening gale, breakers ahead—and any lights shown from the land probably being waved by wreckers. Such was H.’s landfall. Such was my mother’s. I say their landfalls; not their arrivals.” ― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed