MOM

I have been visiting my dying mother for several days now. She can't speak to me, but she looks at me, and I talk to her as if she understands me. Sometimes, she probably even does understand because she smiles at me. I wonder what others would think in my place, but unfortunately, I am locked in my own thoughts. I think about how much my mother didn't do in her life, for example, saying that she loves me. I feel angry and sorry for her and myself, but my dignity does not allow me to focus on myself. That's why I sit here, boiling inside. At some point, I even thought that everything would end soon, but then a great feeling of guilt followed. These thoughts wash over me like a tsunami, but the feeling of guilt remains. I think it grows over time, making me ponder other things like how I left her and how I wasn't by her side. But how could I be? I wanted to breathe, yes, I wanted to live and taste life. It's okay. The doctor will come in and say something, and I'll nod my head as if I'm listening, but I won't really be. It just calms me down to know that someone is still paying attention to us. It's okay. I'll come up with something about what the doctor says, something that will calm my boiling brain and give me a breather. I don't know how long this will continue or how long I can continue. I already feel tired, but I can't do much. She is dying.