I was driving to the gym when a message from my youngest brother popped up in our siblings group chat.

He is a physician and had just had a 45-minute meeting with my parents and a palliative care doctor. This is a type of care that focuses on providing relief from the symptoms of serious and chronic illnesses.

My father has not been living at home for the past 3 1/2 months, ever since he entered a hospital for worsening symptoms of his Parkinson’s disease. For more than two months, he’s been living in a skilled nursing facility because he needs round-the-clock help with daily tasks.

I’ve written quite a bit about my father’s decline because it’s been such a shock for me. He went from a "young-old" man in his mid-to-late 70s to unrecognizably frail and dependent so much quicker than I ever expected.

My brother was about to deliver another difficult blow to my siblings and me.

“Dad is updating his code status to ‘do not resuscitate,’” he wrote. Our dad told him that he doesn’t want chest compressions, intubation, a feeding tube, dialysis or any other medical intervention that might be needed. He also decided to end any PET scans and follow-up appointments with his oncologist because he doesn’t want treatment, even if his cancer returns.

My brother explained everything in detail to our dad and asked multiple times if he was sure. He assured us that our father was making an informed decision completely of sound mind and stable mood.

I sat in the car for a few minutes processing his words. Even though my father has made these same preferences known to us on prior occasions, it felt like a gut punch realizing that it was going to become an official change in his medical records.

My father is the extreme opposite of a quitter, and raised us all to have grit, resilience and a fighting spirit. He’s also only 81. While I recognize this is older than the average lifespan of 76 for an American male, both his parents lived into their 90s. His older siblings also lived to their late 80s and 90s.

Longevity is a hallmark of their sturdy genes.

Perhaps my father will also get those extra years, but he’s decided that quality matters over quantity. I respect that. Honestly, I would make the exact same choice.

So why do my eyes still fill with tears and my chest tightens whenever I think about it?

The last couple of weekends I’ve spent visiting my father have been delightful. He’s adjusted to where he’s staying. His mental cognition and mood are better than I’ve seen in recent years. He asks about my children, my husband and my dog, Frankie.

I show him pictures of how my hostas, jasmine plant, hydrangeas and bougainvillea are doing. He grew up in Model Town, a suburb of Lahore, Pakistan, in a house surrounded by all sorts of fruit trees and greenery. His green thumb has planted flourishing flowers and trees at every home he’s had.

Right now, three huge crepe myrtles are blooming with hot pink flowers in my parents’ backyard. In Houston, they grow to the size of large trees. I took photos of the trees and flowers to show him. He teared up when he saw how they were thriving.

“I thought I didn’t have anything left to live for,” he said. “But maybe I do.”

He asked me if I could take him to the backyard sometime, so he could see the trees again. I said I would try.

The next day, I cut five of those showy, crinkled-petal blossoms and put them in a jar filled with water. On my next visit, I took them to his room. His face brightened when he saw the vibrant color on the delicate, wrinkled flowers.

I put them on the dresser, under the television, directly across from his bed.

I hope whenever he sees them, he’s reminded.

There’s beauty and love to live for.

President Donald Trump supporters who genuinely believed he would release all the government files about child sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein, and who keep pushing for answers, deserve bipartisan support.

I appreciate the demands from his base that Trump release more details surrounding the investigation into Epstein’s multiple sex crimes and potential clients. Still, I don’t understand how his supporters ever came to believe he was on the side of the victims.

These are the publicly known facts about the Epstein scandal, as recapped in a recent AP timeline:

More than 20 years ago, in March of 2005, police in Palm Beach, Florida, began investigating Epstein after the family of a 14-year-old girl reported she was sexually abused at his mansion. Multiple underage girls later told police that Epstein sexually trafficked and abused them.

Palm Beach state attorney Barry Krischer made some strange decisions at the time. Despite police signing paperwork to charge Epstein with several counts of unlawful sex with a minor, Krischer called a grand jury, which only indicted him with a single count of soliciting prostitution.

The FBI began its own investigation.

Again, another public official made unusual decisions involving Epstein. Despite federal prosecutors preparing charges, the U.S. attorney in Miami, Alexander Acosta, made a secret deal in 2008 that allowed Epstein to avoid federal prosecution. Why would he do such a thing? Acosta is the same guy Trump would pick years later to head the U.S. Department of Labor.

The Epstein scandal could have ended decades ago if it weren’t for the dogged reporting of Julie K. Brown, an investigative reporter at the Miami Herald. This local journalist deserves the credit for reigniting public interest in the Epstein case a decade after the Acosta deal, which she did by documenting stories from 80 of his victims and by describing the wealthy, powerful network around Epstein. The men known to be in this orbit include presidents Bill Clinton and Donald Trump, the U.K.'s Prince Andrew and former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak.

Other than Ghislaine Maxwell, Epstein’s girlfriend, no one else has been charged or convicted of crimes connected to him.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Senate still voted for Acosta to become Trump’s labor secretary. Once his connection to the Epstein scandal made headlines again, Acosta resigned; Trump praised him and expressed regret at his resignation.

Trump has publicly said he and Epstein were friends and multiple photos document this friendship.

“I’ve known Jeff for 15 years. Terrific guy,” Trump told New York magazine in 2002. “He’s a lot of fun to be with. It is even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side.”

This was during the time period in which dozens of young girls allege they were victimized and trafficked by Epstein. Trump also appears multiple times in Epstein’s private jet flight log, and his name is circled in Epstein’s “little black book.” The Wall Street Journal recently revealed that Trump allegedly gave Epstein a birthday card with a drawing of a naked woman that said, “may every day be another wonderful secret.”

Trump denies that he sent the card and sued the Wall Street Journal.

Epstein died in jail in 2019 while Trump was president. Officials say he committed suicide. He was awaiting trial on federal sex trafficking charges. Who knows what details he may have revealed in a trial or who else might have been implicated?

Earlier this month, Trump’s Attorney General Pam Bondi issued a memo declaring there was no further incriminating evidence to release about Epstein’s crimes or death. From then on, she and Trump have faced intense backlash from some of his most vocal supporters.

Trump, with a long history of allegations of sexual crimes and a jury finding him liable for sexual abuse, called the continued furor over Epstein a “hoax” and “boring.”

Given the public history, I wonder what made his supporters believe Trump wanted full transparency and accountability for those involved in Epstein’s crimes. He has a long, close association with Epstein, and those files could very well contain revelations that damage Trump himself. In fact, Bondi told Trump in May that his name appears in the Epstein files, according to a report in the Wall Street Journal.

Some of those who voted for Trump may not care if he committed sexual crimes against young teenage girls. Some of those who have voted for Bill Clinton may feel the same way.

But there’s still a contingent of us who believe character matters in the people who lead our nation. We don’t want a predator-in-chief in the White House.

It’s hard to admit when we’ve been duped. But that anger and disappointment can be channeled into a greater purpose.

The righteous anger of Trump supporters could help bring justice to all those who enabled or participated in Epstein’s crimes.

That’s something everyone, of all political persuasions, should get behind.

During one of the scariest times of my life, when my husband was hospitalized with COVID early in the pandemic, I sat on a concrete bench outside the hospital -- watching him through a wall of windows as he sat in a packed waiting room, laboring to breathe.

No one other than the sick were allowed inside. No one knew if the loved ones we dropped off would make it out alive. I can vividly recall my devastation and fear.

Then, something happened that I will never forget.

One of my oldest friends in St. Louis drove up -- even though I told her not to come, even though she had not been meeting up with anyone during the pandemic. She double-masked and sat several feet away from me on that bench.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you sitting out here alone,” she said.

When she left, another friend -- a physician dealing with the overwhelming load of patients at her hospital -- used her precious little time off and also showed up. Another friend called and said she was on her way. By that time, my husband had been taken back to a room, and I needed to go home to our children.

Never in my life will I forget how those friends made me feel in my darkest moments. I felt less alone. I remember my gratitude for those who dropped off food at my door or sent DoorDash gift cards, especially since I was also sick.

Even though I have always prioritized helping others who are going through difficult times -- taking them food, for instance, and attending funerals when I can -- this experience made me realize how receiving others’ compassion, care and empathy profoundly affects us. It also reinforced that reaching out and showing up after a crisis can be just as valuable as being there in the moment.

For those of us who spend any amount of time online, the ever-present cruelty in people’s comments and the silence of others in the face of horrific abuses can make you question our collective humanity. I’ve found myself wanting to keep a distance from those who demonstrate callousness or indifference to the suffering of others. I limit my exposure to the nastiness online because it feels corrosive to my spirit.

I’ve also been thinking about how to deal with empathy burnout or compassion fatigue in the face of too many sad and enraging stories in the news and on social media. How do we stay engaged when we are bombarded with bad news?

Serendipitously, a reader recently mailed me a copy of a book, “The Gift of Empathy: Helping Others Feel Valued, Cared For, and Understood” by Joel Bretscher and Kenneth Haugk. The latter is the founder and executive director of Stephen Ministries St. Louis, a nonprofit Christian educational organization focused on helping laypeople give compassion and care to those facing painful life challenges. In the book, they wrote: “When someone who is hurting tells another person about their struggles, they are most likely to get a fix-it solution, a pep talk, a platitude, a dismissive remark, a story about someone else’s suffering, or some other unhelpful response, when what they really want and need is empathy.”

The book offers simple advice on how to be a better listener, how to see the world from someone else’s perspective, feel what they might be feeling and express your understanding of those feelings to that person. It helped me realize that I am too quick to try to fix people’s problems -- I blame Eldest Child Syndrome -- rather than allowing myself to sit with the discomfort of hearing another person’s pain.

The book offers simple phrases that one can say, such as, “That sounds painful,” or “I’m sorry -- it’s hard to deal with that,” that can better convey empathy. It suggests asking questions that allow a person to share more about what they are feeling. It includes tips on how to experience another person’s feelings without taking them on as your own. This is key to preventing burnout.

When the world feels torn apart, one of the most powerful antidotes is to feel a connection with another person. Research shows that empathy is a learned trait, not something you are born with. I’m going to take the suggestions in this book and mindfully work on being more empathetic.

It’s a way to survive the cruelty of these times with our hearts intact.