Yes I am

He is old. There is no denying that. His once confident stride falters as he tries to walk. "Have you fallen?" they ask today. "Not yet," he replies with his sly smile. I watch him lie in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, in and out of dreams. Sometimes talking quietly in his sleep. Occasionally waking, saying, "Jin, you're here."

Yes I am.

"One father raised five children," I've heard him say, "but five children can't raise one father." It is true. When did the tables turn? He was always the rugged man who took care of me. The man who made my world feel safe just by smiling. Subtly our roles shifted and shifted again. Along with my brother and sister, we care for him now. 

He is old they say. He is forgetful. 

I know. 

But he is my father. He still has things to say. "Jin," my father says as he wakes again, breaking into his slow, wide smile, "you're still here." 

Yes I am.



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