Yesterday i was with my parents during a visit with the Gerontologist. My Father is now having acid reflux problems. My Mother talked about fatigue. The Doctor asked about depression. She said, yes, but she couldn't talk about it because she would start to cry. I knew she was depressed because I hear every breath she takes, every sigh, every tone in her voice and see every fascial expression. I intentionally had not asked. Before all this Sarno stuff I would have. Then figued out how to fix it. I didn't want to feel responsible and jump in the fix-it mode and caretaker mode. And the guilt mode and the parent pleaser mode and the perfectionist mode. The Doctor suggested medication or talking with someone. I decided I am not going to ask Mother what she wants to do. I am going to wait for her to tell me. I am not going to feel guilty because I had brought up my brother's death and how not grieving has impacted my health. I was so excited because i thought I could finally be fixed. I wanted them to know.