Deaths Epiphany

The man who raised me, his hair has become so very gray. The hands that once held me, their skin is now so paper-thin. I know, the time is coming close where he shouldn’t live alone. What can I say, that he doesn’t already know? He wants his independence, but I hear a waiver in that thought. So now I begin to worry and want to call him every night. I cried when my mother died, but with him I will cry so much more. As long as he’s alive… I still feel tethered in their love.