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Even though the chemo left her exhausted most days, she still tried to help around the house. I would come back from the grocery store and find she had folded the laundry, or I’d see her carefully sweeping the porch even when I begged her to rest.
“Mom, please,” I’d say, guiding her back to the couch with a blanket.
“I just want to feel useful,” she’d say in that gentle way of hers.
Then one morning, I had to leave for work in another city. It was just for a day, but I still felt uneasy about going.
I sat on the edge of Mom’s bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and said, “I’ll leave in the morning, but I’ll be back tomorrow around lunchtime.
I promise I won’t be gone long. Will you be alright without me?”
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