So torn

I don't know why often after a few minutes or so on the phone, mum seems to be eager to hang up the phone. I call to ask her how she's doing, whether she slept well, whether she feels any pain... Always the answer is "Fine, I'm fine, don't worry..."

Do I remind her too much of her illness?
Do I ask too much?
Do my daily calls make her feel unpleasant and pressured to face her own fragile health, something she would rather forget?

Do my calls remind her of the child she has, but who is so far, far away? 
I never wish to do any of this to her when I call. I only call to cheer her up, to encourage her to get out of the house more... I wish to tell her, perhaps not in so many words, that I care, that I care deeply about her and her wellbeing.

Just now, I sat on the floor and as she recounted her day yesterday. I cried. She said she went to  this restaurant she would go to every time a day or two after her chemo treatment to replenish on much needed nutrients... Every time it's always the same dishes: dumplings, chicken soup, and sometimes a fried pork rib. I can picture those dishes, steaming before my eyes. I can smell those dishes, so fragrant, so delicious. Every time time I go with mum, I would look at the food with such intensity and pray and hope and wish that the food will give her much needed strength and nutrition for her to quickly recover...

I cried.

Deep down inside, I miss her very much. I would so much want to be able to take care of her, to help her, to ease her pain and fears (should she have any...). But I know I cannot keep on going back to be with her. I know I cannot continue to put my plans and life on hold and must do something for myself, for my sake. So torn... so very torn, and yet I cannot say it.
 
I dare not tell her the emotional downs and relationship troubles I am going through... I dare not tell her about the many days and nights when I cry thinking about her, worrying about her... I wish I could, I wish I could tell her about my life, every detail of it, but I am selective and have to hold back events, places, words spoken, pain felt.

I have to hold back, just as I hold back the sound of my sobs when I am talking to her sometimes.