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.
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