I really don't know why I'm writing this down, but I guess it’s sort of a quiet night and my mind just keeps going around in circles, and I can't really sleep anymore, not since I stopped working, and it’s been months now since I actually retired, you know, after all those years, and I just feel… empty, I suppose, and it’s not really how I pictured this part of my life turning out, not at all, and I keep thinking about things, old things, and new things, and what I’ve done, and what I haven't, and it just swirls around and around. And one of the things that keeps coming back to me, the thing that’s really gnawing at me, is my dad, and his money, and all of his affairs, and I’ve been handling everything for him for years now, like decades actually, ever since Mom passed, and it was just sort of assumed, I guess, that I would do it, because I was good with numbers, and I had my own business, and I was sort of organized, but it was just always me, and my siblings, well, they just never really offered, not once, to help out, not with the bills, or the investments, or making sure he had enough, or anything really, and I guess I just got used to it, to being the one who did it all, and it felt important, you know, like I was really helping, and being a good son, and maybe that made me feel good, in a way, like I had a purpose, even beyond my own work. But then lately, especially since I stopped working and have all this time to think, I’ve been looking at his accounts, and I’ve always been so careful, you know, making sure everything was correct, and that he was comfortable, and that there would be enough for him, and I always kept track of every single penny, but there’s just this small part of me, this really ugly part, that sometimes thinks about keeping a little bit, just a little, for myself, not that I need it, not really, I mean I’m fine, but it’s just this thought, this quiet little whisper, and I’ve never done anything like that, not ever, and it’s not like it’s even a LOT of money, it’s just… it’s his, and it’s not mine, and I sort of hate myself for even having the thought, and it makes me wonder, after all this time, if maybe I’m not really as good of a person as I thought, and if all those years of doing what was “right” were really just… a performance, or something, and now that I don't have my business, and my own identity from that, I just don't know who I am anymore, and I sort of feel like I’m losing my way, and this thought, this one thought, is just consuming me, and I just can’t seem to shake it, and I just wish I could, but I can't, and I don’t know what to do about it, or even if there IS anything to do.