I'm sorry dad, you dont deserve it.

In 2024, it is possible to render an adult incapacitated, stripped of authority or responsibility, with the click of a button. One keystroke sends a command to the Ministry of Justice, triggering a sequence of actions that, within three working days, activates the enduring power of attorney. Long live progress.

Of course, the actual process is much longer, exhausting, complex, and deeply frustrating. Three years of slow and agonizing decline transformed Dad from an active, strong, and dominant man into a shadow of himself. Along the way, the family battles this confusing and draining disease, trying to preserve his dignity in a situation where sound judgment becomes amorphous and elusive.

Emotions constantly surge and intertwine: compassion, anger, hatred, love, rage, and then compassion again. I know it’s not his fault, and yet I’m angry. He doesn’t deserve this, nor does Mom, nor the kids, and certainly not the grandchildren. But somehow, we’re all sucked into this whirlpool. There’s still so much ahead of us in this journey, one with no way back, only emptiness and frustration.

Two months ago, after hours of reflection and self-reproach, I typed on the keyboard and rendered Dad incapacitated.

I’m sorry, Dad. I know that one day you’ll forgive me.