Wondering if I'm Doing the Right/Best Thing

Warning: This is all real time blurting.

My dad is struggling. It's Friday. Doctors aren't around or they're passing the buck from one to another or the info on what, if anything to do, isn't forthcoming. I feel like I've done all I can do, AND I still have these little niggles... Have I ?
So I sit quietly now. Breathe, move some stiff, tense, knotty parts. I stand, bend (and type !), stretch. I rock torso and hips back and forth, side to side, keep breathing into all the stuck places. Loosey-Goosey, I wonder, what else ? What's the best course now ?
I have the thought: call my brother. I text him, ask him to call. (He's probably out of town working.)
Tears rise in my throat. I let them trickle out my eyes. "He's not going to get better," floats up. I breathe deeper. No. He's not. More tears... Deeper breaths. Rocking like I'm in a rocking chair. Soothing. Calmer...
Yeah. Big breath. All part of it. The end. Slow going. But it's coming.
I feel myself sink into a kind of peaceful sad reality. My brother calls. I spill my guts, tears, fears. We come up with a plan.
I'm guessing all you caregivers have gone through this medical maze. It's, for sure not my first time ! As I breathe, nestle myself into this soft chair, I remember: imagine the earth rising under my feet. A sandbar to rest upon. The sun warms my face. I can smell salt air. Even if he died this minute, there's nothing to do or fix.
I close my eyes. Relax.
Beamin' peace ~~~~~