my father is a stranger to me

my hungarian grandmother

lone mother

Photograph: 25. 11 .2024

Father is now a helpless old man who barely speaks and has become very weak. He can no longer be mobilized and has to be swaddled.

I am kind to him, perhaps even warm, simply because he is so helpless. This apparently triggers certain reflexes, just like a helpless baby does.

But to be quite clear, this man lying in front of me now is a stranger to me.

Apart from his helplessness and his joy at my being there and the attention he receives, nothing in me speaks for him. Apparently that's enough.

I don't even understand why I visit him.
It's certainly not my love for him.

And then I remember the father I once had.
And I get angry at this man who no longer exists.

Six months after I have written these lines, I am no longer angry.

Just disappointed.

Today, when my father spoke, his voice was almost inaudible.

Father has fallen silent and sleeps most of the day.
He is too weak to even sit in a wheelchair.

I'd like to know what's going on in his head.
But this I won't find out any more.

My father is still here.
But the person I was angry with for so long and am still angry with,
no longer exists.