Superheroes never die.

I spoke with my eldest sister over the phone today (she's in California, I'm not) who informed me my dad hurt his ankle while playing tennis with my siblings this past weekend. My dad is 65 years old. (Roughly speaking.) Apparently, he called my sister this morning saying he needs a cane to help him heal his 'temporary' injury.

My dad needing a cane makes me feel at odds with the world somehow. Further in our conversation, my sister expressed her feelings to me in a fairly non-expressive manner. In other words, she didn't know how to express herself, but only said, "Dad's getting old." The sad undertone of her voice said it all, and I connected to it deeply - again, words not necessary. Little needed to be said, as I fully understood what she was not saying. Which got me thinking...

In many respects, no matter how screwed up your childhood, parents are invincible beings, almost superhero-like - the larger than life people in our lives. And as adults, we still view our parents as our go-to guides, particularly when we need advice or are in a bind only our folks know how to fix. Or at the very least, they know how to bring us the comfort we need when those times permit. In any event, when our view of our mom and/or dad is tested, via a sprained ankle, a serious illness, or other bodily/brain deterioration, the reality of our parent's vulnerability becomes, well, real. It goes without saying, we're then forced to face the fact that human nature does eventually takes its place. Even when it comes to our parents.

A sense of sorrow is really the only way I can articulate the feelings I have. I even called my dad today to see how he was feeling. Sadly enough, I don't ordinarily do this. Go figure, I generally chalk it up to an understanding my dad and I have; phone contact and verbal communication is not exactly a strong point of ours. But the reality is, my life often "gets in the way," not permitting the time to call, and quite honestly, I probably, and as a full fledged adult, still take my parents for granted. Perhaps this is the primary reason, albeit shameful, for the lack of ongoing contact between us.

At 29 years of age, it's time I grow up. My parents, just like your own, are getting older. The simple, simply put. This present sense of sorrow, followed by the short time we have on this earth-mentality, makes me want to reach out to the two superheroes that raised me. Because unlike our beloved comic characters, when they're gone, they're gone.