I Was Still Away Recovering When My Children Talked About Their “Early Plans” And Selling Everything From The TV To The Beach House. But The Shock Came When The Notary’s Office Called To Inform Them: “The Property Has An Owner – And It’s Not ANYONE IN THE FAMILY.”

A nurse entered then, efficient in her blue scrubs, checking the monitors beside my bed. She glanced toward the door. “Your children still here, Mrs.

Sullivan? Should I tell them you’re showing signs of improvement?”
I managed the slightest shake of my head, a movement so small it was barely perceptible. The nurse leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“You can hear them, can’t you? Planning already.”

She adjusted my IV with gentle hands. “Happens more often than you’d think.

Families get ahead of themselves.”

Ahead of themselves. Such a polite way of saying my children were circling, too impatient to wait for my actual recovery before picking my life apart. “Your vitals are stronger today,” the nurse continued, making notes on her tablet.

“Dr. Patel will be pleased. He said you were a fighter from the start.”

A fighter.

Yes, I had been once. When Richard got sick. When money was tight during the early years.

When I had to make impossible choices. When had my children forgotten that? The door opened fully, and Daniel stepped in, startled to find the nurse at my bedside.

“Any change?” he asked, his voice shifting to the concerned son he showed the world. “Your mother’s condition is stabilizing,” the nurse replied. “These things take time, but there are positive signs.”

Daniel nodded solemnly, playing his part.

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