Choosing a Path

My parents are driving to Amarillo today so that my dad can meet with a dietitian. When asked why, my dad replied by saying something about his age and how he wanted to make sure he was eating the right things to stay healthy. And while I applaud him for being proactive, I can't deny that the conversation freaked me out a little bit.
My parents are old. And not in the 'everybody says their parents are old' kind of way. While I am the tender age of 28, my mom is 65 and my dad is going to be 70 in April. Those are the breaks when you're the youngest of six children. (And I will forever be left knowing that my older siblings all spent more time with our parents than I ever will.)
I should count myself lucky because I enjoy spending time with my parents. I know my situation isn't exactly the norm. For one, my parents are still married. Over forty years of marital work, and they are still going strong. For another, they're great parents. And to sum up what could potentially be a very long list, they're pretty damn fun too. But all of those pros don't take away from one big con: we won't be growing into old age together.
After talking to my dad, my anxious mind went into a similar spiral to the one I just exhibited. I was saddened at the thought of my parents not remaining their spry selves. Of their embarrassment when the time comes for them to need help doing daily tasks. And the realistic potential of consoling one after the other one passes. But I quickly realized that I was leading myself down an unhealthy path. After all, the 'what ifs' are a token sign of anxiety. And once I start down that road, it gets harder and harder to turn around and rush back to safety.
So instead I chose to remind myself that this is a habit I'm trying to break. No one knows the future so there is no need to fret about it. The only thing worrying will do is lead me right down the path I'm trying to avoid.
So I took a deep breath and put a smile on my face. That's a good start.