gramps

And as he rested his body on his bed as I watched him, as I touched his fragile hand of wasted muscles, dangling under his skin-and-bones, every part of him is... tiredness being old and frail, I know he hates to be a burden to us... knowing that he couldn't help makes it worse for him. He suffers in silence. Do his children hear his sufferings? I helped him up; he couldn't stand on his own two feet, and sitting would just hurt his back. My mom, I watched how she fondly fed him, gently cleaned him and laid him back to rest. He quietly said to her, "Come see me often." A tear rolled down from the corner of his eye... I gulped in guilt. Do his other children hear his sufferings? How could they? When they are so busy listening to their own complaints and excuses. I thought of my five parents. I must be there, I promise, to care for all of them... but when my time comes... will my children be there for me?

Yatiehanny

PS YAtie! Read the reminder below.