Until a few years ago, I thought the same. They made that decision, not me. I shouldn't have to burden myself with any obligations and should get to just reap the benefits for me and my children alone.

But something changed somewhere. I now see my parents in a whole new light.

There is a book "Factfulness", in which the author lists a matrix for four income levels. My parents started at level 2. I still remember their parents houses: the makeshift kitchen with dim lighting, the four walls and the hole they named a bathroom, the leaky faucets at the ends of pipes ran across the house and exterior to the uneven, unpainted walls.

The sacrifices they must have took to change their socioeconomic standing and subsequently my own can never be requited. I now fit somewhere along the fourth level. I can't help but feel immense gratitude when I see them now. I now try to give them all that I can so they enjoy the time they have left. And I wish I had the foresight in my earlier years to tell them how I appreciate their efforts but then again, those stubborn bastards loved to argue then.

I don't know what I wanted to communicate saying all this so excuse me while I text my mother.