Growing up, I never really noticed how much older my parents were than my friends.  When you’re little, you only have your own family as a reference, and everyone that’s over the age of thirteen seems ancient.

My dad doesn’t age like a normal person – or at all really, so it’s hard to believe that he’s seventy years old. My dad is the best man that I know, period. When I was in grade school (it’s really weird to use that term) him and I didn’t exactly get along. He’s always had a bit of a temper, and even now some of that leeches out a bit, but back then shit was bad. He was going through a lot and it felt like anything I did would set him off.

I remember being scared of my father (I use the term dad now though) because I didn’t want him to yell at me. My mom would have to ease him into certain topics, or if there was something that I wanted to do that he wasn’t the keenest on; she would help.

Fast-forwarding to after a bit of a blow out, my dad came around. He switched up our relationship, and vowed to always be open with me and to treat me with respect. It was tough at first but I couldn’t be happier with the relationship that I have with my parents.

Now that I’m a bit older, I can notice it more. I remember the first time I saw my dad have trouble going up and down the stairs. He has bad knees (I know this) but it was the first time I really noticed just how much his age is getting to him. Him wincing with every step, and it not really letting up. He takes a hot bath and ices all his joints down every day now. It’s a huge process, but it’s something that he tells me he has to do now. 

It’s weird. One moment you’re constantly annoyed with your parents for nagging you, and the next you want nothing more than to just sit with them, and soak everything in. I envy my friends that have younger parents, in a selfish way. Not because I don’t love my parents any less, or love how wise they are – which only comes with age, but for the sheer amount of time that they’ll have to spend with them over me

I didn’t think I’d be worried about: what if my parents fell down? Are they getting enough exercise? What if they get sick? How will I take care of everything should they pass away? – I know I have a really supportive family, and I’m beyond grateful that a large portion of them live so close by but they’re still my parents, and I’m not ready to let them go yet, not that I ever will be.