Are we all going to grow old and die one day?
Lately, this thought has been sitting heavily in my heart. One of the strange things about becoming an adult is that no one really prepares you for the moment you realise your parents are growing older too. As children, our parents seem permanent, strong, capable and always there. Somehow, in our minds, they remain, still your parents, while we rush through school, build careers, get married, have children, and chase our dreams. Then one day, you look at them closely. The grey hair is no longer just a few strands. They move a little slower. Their faces tell stories of decades, and suddenly, it hits you; they're ageing. My dad has aged. He's aged more than I realised, and every time I think of it, my heart aches just a little more. Living thousands of miles away makes it even harder. I wish I could spend more ordinary days with him. Instead, so much of our relationship happens through phone calls, sometimes shorter and less frequent. The older we become, the more we realise that...
