I’m not sure if this is a real confession, like, an actual bad thing to say out loud. It just feels… sticky. My mom, she’s really gone now, you know? Not in the gone-gone way, but the gone-here way. She stares through me sometimes when I talk to her on the phone, and I live three states away so it’s all phone calls and those damned video chats where I have to pretend to be excited she’s having a good day. My sister, she’s the one who’s actually there, doing the heavy lifting. I send money. Lots of money. And every time I call, I feel this weird… disconnect. Like I’m playing a part. The dutiful daughter, so far away. Tonight, I just stared at my plate. Chicken, some roasted veggies. Something I usually love. But it just sat there, cold. I couldn’t even be bothered to reheat it. And then I started thinking about mom, and how my sister probably made her some mushy peas or something equally unappetizing. And for a second, I felt nothing. No guilt, no sadness, just… emptiness. And then I kind of laughed, a little hiccupy sound, because it’s so fucked up, right? To feel nothing when your own mother is fading. I guess I thought it would hurt more. A lot more. It’s just… all the guilt, it’s like a heavy blanket that’s lost its warmth. It’s just weight now. On every call, I hear the slur in her words, the way she forgets my dad’s name sometimes, and I just… nod. Or make a sympathetic noise. And then I hang up and feel this weird relief. Like, Phew, another one done. And then I feel like a monster for feeling that relief. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel anymore. Just… tired, I guess. So damn tired of feeling tired.