It happened slowly, and yet all at once.
She’d not been well for a while, arguably for most of her life, at least in the head. But the physical ailments, that started small. She needed her coffee in the morning. Then it became needing an aspirin to get moving. So on and on.
By the time I finally got her to see a doctor, and tests were run, it was a matter of months, if that.
I should have left her years before, but I stayed, something held me there, in the routine, until she died.
I was free, then.