you don't, but you did

you don't ever want to see "Dad cell" on your cell phone, because he never calls you. you assume something bad has happened to your mom, because she is The Communicator. When there are plans or questions or issues to be dealt with, you see "Mom Cell."

you don't ever want to answer that call, but you have to. then you have to hear that your mom is back in the hospital after what was promised to be a low-key gall bladder removal.

you don't want to hear the hint of ohgodohgod in your dad's voice when he tells you he's in a waiting room while Mom gets all kinds of tests run, and she won't be back in her room for at least an hour. you don't want to imagine your dad sitting in a hospital waiting room. you don't want to know that he's freaking out as calmly as he can, because Mom most likely will need another surgery and will have to stay in the hospital a few days.

your mom has never stayed in the hospital a few days. you are fucking terrified to see her in a hospital bed, because she's already tiny and you know she'll look even tinier.

you don't want to go tell your boss you'd like the rest of the day off because you're afraid you'll burst into tears when you tell him why. and you know you must tell him why.

you don't want to even put one toenail over the line of doubt that everything will be okay. everything has to be okay. your daddy has alzheimer's and your mom is a hero. your mom keeps everything together. you have a hard enough time believing she'll actually die one day, she's just that lively. you selfishly assume you couldn't possibly handle what she handles, what she has in front of her, because of what's happening inside your dad's brain.

you'll stop and get peach flowers on the way because that's what she loves.

you'll call your brother and request his presence because you can't do this alone, damnit. you suggest he bring his daughter because she will light up the room in ways flowers can't. he says he's already gone to pick her up.

family, you realize, becomes more important with every passing year.