This is not a political post. The political parties in question are merely part of the narrative.

My mom (68F) and father (71M) are slowly dying. Not from any disease, not even that their bodies are failing them. <br><br>My mom is dying from dementia, and my father is dying from lack of purpose.<br><br>My father was born in Nazi Germany. He survived the war, immigration to the US, early childhood trauma, and the loss of his father and two brothers. The man is a towering figure of mental strength, someone that I look up to more than anyone else in my life. He's also one of the kindest, most giving and considerate people I've ever known. <br><br>While his experiences are certainly unique, his character arch is not. He faced his biggest challenges in his youth, and after a few wars, immigrations, and deaths, he was able to find his purpose in his 20s. To work, give, and love. <br><br>My mother's story is a little more complicated. She had early childhood trauma too. Her twin brother died at birth(miscarriage), and her father died at 61 due to a heart attack. <br><br>While their paths weren't easy, they were able to thrive. They met in college, got married, built a life together, and had children. <br><br>My father taught me how to ride a bike, how to throw a football, how to change diapers, and how to love someone else more than yourself. My mother taught me how to tie my shoes, write, ride a horse, and how to trust in the goodness of the world. <br><br>I've always felt like they were invincible, and their strength trickled down to me. <br><br>I've been through many tramia myself, and I've failed many times. But I've always felt like I could rely on their strength to pull me through. <br><br>When I was 11, my mom was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimers. <br><br>When I was 18, my father retired from his job and moved to a small town in rural Mexico. <br><br>Two years ago, my mom moved into an Alzheimers facility. <br><br>And two days ago, my father moved into a facility that could take care of both of them. <br><br>My mom doesn't recognize me, and my father has lost his purpose.<br><br>She still laughs when you tickle her, still smiles when you hug her, and still says "I love you too" when you say "I love you mom." But she doesn't know who I am. <br><br>My father knows that she doesn't know who he is either, but still drives out of his way to see her everyday. <br><br>He was her rock, just like she was his. And when she got sick, he gave up everything to take care of her. Money, their home, their hobbies, their friends, their life. <br><br>And when he could no longer take care of her, he fell apart.<br><br>I'm not asking for pity or sympathy. This isn't a sad story, and I'm not a victim. I'm better off than most, and I've received more love and support than I can ever repay. <br><br>But what I do want to say is this: The world is changing fast, and we're running out of time. <br><br>Sementia is a curse. Aging is a curse. Miserable deaths from disease, and the suffering that comes with it, are a curse. <br><br>I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that we're running out of time. I want my parents back, and I want to see them thrive again. Before it's too late.<br><br>Edit: Wow, thank you so much for all the love and support. This is a great community, and I'm so glad that I got to share this with y'all. I know that this story is not unique, and that many of you have been through similar struggles, or are going through it right now. My heart is with you all. <br><br>I'm not familiar with sharing personal stories, so I apologize if I didn't respond to most of the comments. I appreciate your kindness, and am grateful for any feedback.