Tish writes: “I worry about my Dad. I’ve seen aspects of him that I haven’t before. He has tics. Times where he shouts out for no reason. He fights the tics and the shouts. I feel bad for him that he is alone. But I can’t change him nor can I save him, nor can I cure his loneliness by sacrificing myself. His loneliness goes so deep that it can’t be cured. And I am not a god nor a saint.”
I don’t know, I think this realization might be more upsetting than just about anything.
