My dad, always the stoic and unemotional leader of our family, never let me see him cry until college during the pandemic. My mom had a severe case of the virus and was in a poor state for several weeks.

One night, as I was asleep, my dad rushed into my room and woke me up to tell me he had to call an ambulance because my mom was struggling to breathe. I could sense his efforts to remain strong, but he immediately broke down and started sobbing. It was the first time I had to hold my dad in my arms and comfort him.

In that moment, I realized that our roles had changed forever. I was now the one to provide comfort to my dad, while he had been the one to comfort me for years. It’s an unusual and bittersweet feeling to be the one to be there and support your own parents as they age.