My sister and I are both people who want to DO something in the event there is a problem or issue.
When my father got sick, and we realized there was nothing we could do to solve it, my sister likened our situation to when we were little girls, riding in the backseat of my father's two-door car, looking out the windows, filmed with smoke, not sure where we were, and not quite sure where we were going.
And Dad was tooling along on the expressway, turn signal on, approaching ramp after ramp, and we were never sure when he was going to exit.
With Mom, she is cruising along at a steady 45 miles an hour, not signaling much, but slower than the flow of traffic and slowing down infestimally every day. Eventually we will cruise to a stop, but we have no idea when that will be.
Now that my brother-in-law is considered terminal, the perception has shifted. He can't eat despite willing himself to do so and despite encouragement from family members. Our focus has become getting a little more time, a few more miles, out of him, addressing each mechanical breakdown and getting back on the road again, only just waiting for the next thing which will go wrong.