I am experiencing an unexpected — and I admit, slightly shameful — sense of relief. My mother passed last month, after decades of requiring constant attendance, and the immediate physical burden lifted feels… immense. I find myself observing my own reactions with a certain detached interest: the sudden quiet in the house, the absence of that ever-present background anxiety, the way my own body seems to sag a bit less, almost imperceptibly. It’s not grief I feel, not yet, but a strange lightness, like shedding a weight I hadn't realized I was carrying until it was gone. And frankly, I don't care if that makes me a terrible person.