I’m at my mom’s house
By Túpac IV
The room I’m in is my brother’s room growing up. It’s been turned into a storage closet. It’s a mess. I want to clean it up. Mom is adamant about not moving anything, and not throwing anything out. It feels very messy and chaotic here.
It’s hard to see her so weak and so close to the end. It feels so strange to see her, this strong and independent woman, now completely helpless, in pain, close to the end.
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