The Future

My mother got out of her hospital bed to kiss my father goodbye as he was wheeled out of the room.  I rode in the ambulance with him to the care facility two miles from their house.  Although this was the best of the facilities I toured, it is awful.  Infirm, ailing patients congregate in wheel chairs near the nurses’ station.  Several hours passed before my father was evaluated, no one seemed particularly interested that a new patient was admitted.   I’m horrified and exhausted.  There is no dignity in this process.  And yet my father's disposition remains cheerful.  Transfixed on nothing in particular, I asked him what he was thinking about.  "The future."  "What does it look like?"  I'm on the beach, running with you, your brother and sister."