Ok, I "get it" intellectually. Still having a hard time coming to grips with it emotionally, though.

My dad is very, very sick at this point. For anyone following my story, he has terminal brain cancer and is 84. He's been deteriorating rapidly, and at this point can't do much for himself - can't walk, go to the bathroom alone, eat, or really even talk. He sleeps most of the time and fades in and out of lucidity when awake. When lucid, fortunately, he does still recognize us and can express happiness when touched or visited with. That part is actually an improvement over a month ago.

My brother is absolutely devastated by my dad's condition. He is sleeping with him and giving him 100% care - he's truly being terrific. However, he is also grating on my nerves about how only he could possibly understand the best way to care for my dad. He pretty much shoves my stepmom and me aside and snaps at us for doing it wrong (whatever "it" is that we're doing for my dad - talking, feeding, cleaning, whatever). It's undermining and condescending.

True - I don't feel as strongly about my dad as my brother does. We never had a great relationship and it has been especially strained over the past 8 years since I met my husband. But I am trying my absolute best, and am flying 3000 miles each way every other weekend, while pregnant, to be with my parents to provide support. I'm really doing everything that I can, but I'm feeling extremely inadequate right now. Rather, I don't feel inadequate myself, but inadequate in my brother's eyes. Why do I care? I don't know.

I spent all of Saturday, Sunday and Monday baking Hungarian desserts as a Christmas present for my dad (what else do you get for someone who is dying? never have been presented with such a conundrum before). Literally, it consumed at least 10 hours in total. I made some really good stuff, and researched to figure out what desserts are traditional for Christmas and ensured that my recipes were authentic. Then I carefully packaged and brought them with my on my flight from the west coast to Philadelphia.

My brother bought my dad a german Stollen (another dessert) from Trader Joe's. After we opened presents, then again after Christmas dinner, then again for breakfast this morning, I offered my dad some of the Hungarian cakes that I baked, and my brother pushed me aside and said "no, Dad would rather have the Stollen". My dad can't really talk so I don't know what he would have said he would have wanted. For all I know, my brother could be right. But for some reason, this little symbolic dismissal of my effort to connect with my dad is hurting me.

I might have mentioned this one before, but it came up again this morning. My dad never really saw me for who I am but rather for who he wanted me to be. A prime example of this is that starting when I was very young, he always told me that I would going to become a professional concert pianist. He taught me how to play the piano and I was required to take lessons until I was 15 (and my mom died, leaving him with other things to deal with other than enforcing my lessons). Truly, I have no musical talent. Mechanically, I can play the piano in the sense that I can read music and make the sounds come out as they are written on the page. But that's not the same as talent. Regardless, because he was intent upon having a daughter who would grow up to become a concert pianist, this is the ONLY thing that I remember my dad being proud of me about and spending time with me on. I am now a management consultant and fairly successful at that, but he doesn't seem to be as proud of that as he was when I played piano. My brother never had to take piano lessons. He played sports and was supposed to grow up to become an engineer.

When he retired at age 78 (yeah, I know... 78), his present to himself was an upgrade from a baby grand to a shiny ebony Bosendorfer grand piano. He was thrilled with his piano.

My stepmom, my brother and I were talking the other day about what to do with the house and furniture after my dad dies. My stepmom said that my dad really wants my brother to have the piano. I don't know if that is how my dad really feels or if he said it while confused, but ouch. Needless to say, my brother is making plans to take the piano.

On the upside, I got some really nice things for my baby for Christmas, from both my stepmom and my brother. That was sweet. Up until now, the baby has been the last thing on their minds, which is understandable but still kind of hurts me as a first-time pregnant woman. But this Christmas, they were thinking of me (and her!) and that brought me some peace.