I feel bad even typing this. My dad moved to hospice yesterday. He’s been really sick for a while, getting worse and worse with his memory and everything. It's been me taking care of him, basically. My brother lives across the country and my mom passed years ago. So it was just me. Getting him ready for hospice was hard. He didn’t want to go. He cried. I cried too, but for totally different reasons. Today I woke up and the house was quiet. REALLY quiet. No alarms, no needing to remind him to take his pills, no cleaning up messes. Just... nothing. And I felt this huge wave of relief. Like a weight was gone. I actually smiled. I felt it. And then the guilt hit. How can I feel good about him being in hospice? How can I feel this FREE? He’s my dad. He’s dying. And all I can think about is that I can finally sleep through the night. I can finally watch my shows without interruption. I can finally just BE. It's awful. I know it’s awful. Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am, how good I am for taking care of him. They don't know I just wanted it to be over. I wanted my life back. And now that it’s almost over, I feel like the WORST daughter in the world. But I also feel this... lightness. I hate myself for it. I really do.