blip healing blip scars

It was only later, after my father had gone, after he had told me in an off-hand way that his brother, my uncle, has cancer which has spread to his bones; that the realisation crystallized
how reluctant is physical contact with him
how I cut his hair gingerly, holding his ears with the very tips of my fingers.

Some research fact surfaced from one of my courses, how elderly widowed men experience the least human touch.
My father is not widowed, but separated.
He is alone.
He told me about waking up screaming alone after horrific nightmares.

I find the pain of imagining this tears me.
I talked to him. I tried to support, to encourage counselling.
[Otherwise it's down to me do all the healing.]

My mother said: when was he ever there for you when you needed him as a child?
And I know, and I am always wary of giving too much, and being sucked into manipulative self-centred hurt caused disappointment again.
And I know that I do not trust, that this preserving of boundaries and control still haunts the rest of my life and my relationships.
And I know, and I see a lonely old man whose brother is dying and who needs a comforting hand, and still to reach out and touch
is too far
I feel sick and guilt that I am not big enough to overcome