I sat before mum's shrine with my ex, and described a little more in detail of what happened in those final days. I told him the heavy burden I felt having been given this immense 'power' to decide the course of mum's treatment over the past few months, and at the end, having the power to, in a way, be given control over her life. "J'ai tué ma mère" (I killed my mother)... these words kept on repeating inside my head, over and over, those last few days, especially when it came down to the decision to increase her dosage of morphine.
I missed mum terribly this evening, missed her so much I was so close to breaking and crying. I need to cry, but I only teared... Somehow, my ex seems more prone to tears than I am when I describe what happened and my feelings towards this all. Am I unfeeling? Am I cold hearted and made of stone?
I have an open road in front of me he tells me. After all is taken care of, the world is mine, and I am free. But deep down, I cannot but think: is this freedom better than having my mother around for a few more years? Is this freedom not at the expense of the dearest person in my life yet? He hugged me, and when the hug was over, I could see his eyes were again moist and red...
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