My parents are not dead. They are alive. But it feels like they are dead. The people they used to be are not there anymore. They have been ravaged by pain, bitterness, regret. Their minds are destroyed by the pain medications meant to relieve their suffering. I can’t have a sane conversation with my own parents anymore. I can barely remember what it was that we laughed so hard about for so many years. They do nothing but sit in front of the tv watching Fox News. They are miserable, they are scared and paranoid, and they think the world is ending.
They feel dead. I miss them.