Reality Hits Hard

Both my parents suffered discomforts over the past week or two.
Apparently, my mother had a severe coughing fit and my daddy ended up taking her to the emergency room because she could no longer breathe.
Then my daddy suffered a fall on their front porch, either passing out or tripping, we're not sure which, and falling into the concrete pillar, steps and door. I don't know all the details, but he ended up with a gash on his forehead, broken and cracked ribs and then pretty sore from head to toe. Of course, I heard about NONE of this until today, when I got on my email and read a message from my oldest brother Von asking if there were volunteers to help with putting up a railing for outside on the steps and then some other improvements to the house to assist my parents in their getting around more easily. Needless to say, I WAS STUNNED. Then I was MAD that it had been assumed that all of us who live away from my parents even knew what had happened to either of them.
It is really difficult living away from Utah in the first place...but then, to not find out about things of significance when they happen leaves me feeling very useless and helpless. I even talked to my mother twice this week...and she said nothing. Even those in Utah didn't find out for a few days until my parents went to the wedding of my nephew and my daddy's injuries were noticed by a few of my siblings. I'm wondering how they'll inform us of their deaths....TEXT MESSAGE???!!!
AARRGGHH!!! Can you tell I'm irritated??? I'll agree, I don't need to know everything...but come on guys, you DO need to share severe discomforts and set backs.
Then Becca tells me that at the wedding luncheon that same day, of which my parents were 20 minutes late for because they had fallen asleep and couldn't wake up (which was the first clue something was REALLY wrong - they are NEVER late for ANYTHING unless they are 10 minutes EARLY, which THEY consider late)...anyways...Becca said daddy appeared totally disoriented...confused...could barely eat without having his mouth right down in his plate, he couldn't raise the food to his mouth. She said she watched him struggle and her thoughts were so distressed over him...
Big sighs. My daddy is 85...my mother 80. I don't like the reality of this picture laid in front of me. I don't want to hear my reality, that my parents are aging...old even. And that over the past two years, the decline has been rapid and noticeable to us all. More than anything, I don't want my mind to tell me that the dream I had two weeks ago of my daddy passing could very easily become my reality in the near future, and that the random discussion I had with Del three nights ago about the financial arranging we would need to make in order for both of us to attend my daddy's funeral all have me a little UNNERVED!!!!!
So I cried today, thinking of a forth coming phone call and then probable trip to Utah for a funeral, of either my mother or daddy. Neither would be preferable.
But reality tells me...it won't be long now.
Reality sucks.