Breaks my heart

I'm home for Easter, just a couple of days. We had lunch today, the youngest of the family, my husband and I put the food out. So far so ordinary. My dad wheeled to the table and a plastic apron placed around him.
I served him food, cut up the bits that weren't already bite sized and sat next to him. A small gesture of understanding but I'd made sure today my mum wasn't sat next to him. I did the subtle catching of the fallen large bits of food. Then at dessert he couldn't feed himself. I helped, I carefully put the spoon in his mouth and helped him finish his meal.
He then had his coffee, then he went to the loo, all on his own. This time.

My once strong and independent father tries now to be independent, just a bit. 

And each time it breaks my heart, I see my mother's face look exacerbated by the crashes into walls and dents in the furniture. I see how trapped they both are and I want to free them both. But I also don't want to be here often. I'm weak that way.
I see it as one of my possible futures. I notice my arm all the more, I think to the day I need to be fed and use a chair and wear a nappy. I think of my husband feeling trapped by me and wishing he'd taken a different path. Who knows, he might still. There's time!