There are some things we have to accept even when it goes against what we want and need.

There are hard truths we try to accept, but we can’t because everything within us is screaming, “no, no.”

The hard truth I never wanted to accept was that my parents would grow old, too old to keep going. I never wanted to accept that because I knew what would come next.

The next step was a final one, and I couldn’t bear the thought of it.

The hard truth my brother and I didn’t want to accept was that my father had reached the age when everything was hard. Too hard, Dad said.

The cruelty of life had already stolen our mother from us. Alzheimer’s had taken her after some really tough years.

But we still had our dad, we said.

Often, those who see their parents frequently don’t notice their gradual decline.

We tend to see them as we always have.

Then the day comes when we’re startled to notice that Dad shuffles slowly from place to place, and we wonder when he got so old.

At 78, the man who could climb mountains with the best of them now had to struggle to climb out of a chair.

“Of course he has a hard time moving,” my brother said in anger. “He just sits in that chair all day letting his muscles go to waste.”

I recognized my brother’s anger was only a cover-up for his sadness. It was hard for him to accept his favorite hunting buddy could hunt no more — unless one counts my father’s daily hunt for his glasses or his feeling around for a cup of coffee he can no longer clearly see.

While my father struggled with failing vision and recovering from a leg amputation, my bother struggled with accepting our father’s infirmities.

I had my own sort of denial.

“Go to a new eye doctor,” I said. “Modern medicine should be able to do something.”

I denied that modern medicine cannot forever stop the aging process. It cannot forever prevent the inevitable, or no one would ever get sick and no one would ever die.

“Please don’t give up,” I pleaded with my dad.

But one Sunday afternoon I called him to see if he was watching the Eagles football game.

He wasn’t. “I’m getting ready,” he said.

Ready for what? I asked.

“You know. This is the waiting room. I’m waiting to die,” Dad said.

He insisted he was ready.

Well, my siblings and I weren’t ready.

We couldn’t accept that Dad no longer was fighting to live.

It wasn’t long after that when Dad couldn’t breathe and had to be rushed to the hospital. He died later that day.

I tried to focus on what he left behind. He left behind a legacy of love and plenty of life’s lessons.

He only went up to fifth grade before he had to go to work in the coal mine to help support his family. But he was so wise.

My sister’s young friends used to come sit with Dad when they had a problem. They said he always helped.

Whenever I think of him I picture his smiling face and the joyful light that was always in his eyes.

Dad loved life and always wanted to remind us life was good.

I am grateful for the lessons he left behind and the love of family he instilled in us.

When sad memories of his last days faded it was his positive approach to life that remained with us.

Now, I am the matriarch of the family and I know the road ahead of me is shorter than the one behind.

Now, it is my two daughters who call every day to monitor what’s going on in my life.

If I have a doctor’s appointment they want to be filled in so they know what’s going on.

Many years ago when I knew I would need brain surgery I didn’t tell my daughters until the last minute because they were in college and I didn’t want to worry them.

They never stopped warning me never to again withhold something important.

Now, I think they know my schedule better than I do.

They were always extremely loving and caring but they didn’t monitor my health and activities as much as they do now.

Sometimes I have to struggle for my independence. But I understand what they feel. It’s what I went through with my own parents.

Sometimes I hear myself saying the same thing my dad heard when we told him “doctor’s should be able to do something about that.”

Now I make sure I get answers to all alternatives because I know my daughters will be checking it out. It’s amazing what you can learn on Google and AI.

Sometimes the information isn’t quite accurate, but it sure does prepare us for what questions to ask. And I’m glad to have two smart daughters to bounce things off them.

One good thing they both did was to nag me into going to more social events. With all the recovery needed after three hurricane I was forgetting about the fun part of life.

It’s nice to be reminded there still is such a thing as fun.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net