I guess I'm just… observing this kind of cognitive decline in my dad, seeing him completely disoriented by his own rose bushes and wondering if this detached, almost clinical dread is a normal human response to anticipatory grief, or just… me… sort of dissociating because my whole identity is already a blur of toddler demands and unpaid labor—and is it BAD that part of me wants to scream because I don't GET to want more, because SOON he won't even know my name?