My father is a stranger to me

Photograph: 12. 12 .2023

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.