“You’re thinking about Dad.” I was always grateful that I could be upfront and speak my mind.
“I always will.” She looked back to me. “No one has seen him in over twenty years, but I still think of him. I stupidly thought he’d come back when I got so sick. I thought some magical force would bring him back to me.”
This was my biggest fear. Becoming like this.
“It’s time to stop thinking about him,” I told her, hating to break her heart.
“Yes. Definitely. It’s definitely time to stop.” She nodded with a soft smile. I was glad to hear her say that, and glad she looked so determined. It seemed like her illness was a wakeup call in every sense of its meaning. “Anyway, back to you. I don’t need you here.”
“Mama, that’s way harsh.” I giggled.
“Oh no, I don’t mean to be. But it’s true. Tristan will be able to help me out if I need it.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything, I’m just telling you that I don’t need you here. You can decide for yourself what you’d like to do with that info.” She smiled.
I smiled back and thought about it. I’d taken many risks before.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take one more.
For me it was worth a try.