I'm at my parents now. It's been years since I've been here in the summer. My brothers and I are together for the first time in a very long time.
It's unbelievably pastoral here. Our dinners are made with vegetables and chicken all grown within half a mile of the kitchen. Dessert is berry pie, also grown on the farm. I can see why my parents love it here.
My parents are growing old. They act like they have accepted the fact that there bodies are breaking down, and that one day they will die. That's unsettling for me. I haven't accept that yet. I still believe they have years of healthy life ahead of them.
But maybe not. Mom has had heart trouble. Dad can't walk far without breathing heavily.