1 I was sixty-seven when diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. My children fell silent, their eyes red. No one suggested abandoning me. Michael offered to provide money despite his busy work. Chloe said I could live with her—she could care for me while raising her daughter. I felt relieved. My years raising them alone hadn’t been wasted. But the disease progressed quickly. Within three years, I lost most of my clarity, often forgetting what I was doing. One sleepless night, I woke Chloe. She finally snapped, pulling me from bed. “Fine! Then no one sleeps!” After a moment, her shoulders shook with sobs. “Mom, can’t you give me a break?” she whispered. “I cook, clean, and help you all day. Can’t I just sleep at night?” She mumbled exhaustedly before whispering, almost inaudibly, “Why… won’t you just die…” Suddenly, my mind cleared—a flash in the fog. I couldn’t burden them any longer. “Okay,” I mumbled, clinging to that one clear thought. Chloe’s crying stopped instantly. She turned to look at me, frozen. A few seconds passed before she registered what I’d said. Tears, like pearls from a broken string, began to roll down her cheeks again, silent and steady. She wiped them away and gently tucked the blankets around me. “Mom…” Her lips parted, but her voice trembled as much as they did. In the end, only two words came out. “Never mind. Sleep.” She lay down on her side next to me, humming a gentle tune. I knew the song. It was the one I used to sing to her when she was little, the one that always lulled her to sleep. I forced my eyes shut, my mind already racing, planning. How could I leave tomorrow? It had to be quiet, without a fuss. Nothing too messy or traumatic. I didn’t want to scare my granddaughter, Olivia. She’d just started college. A trauma like that could cast a shadow over her whole life. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe the old lullaby worked its magic. Before long, I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I was awake before Chloe came to get me up. I could hear her in the living room, her voice a low murmur as she complained to her husband. “I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in ages.” Her husband’s voice was full of sympathy. “Why don’t we have Mom stay with Michael for a couple of months? It’s not that we don’t want to care for her, but it’s not fair for you to bear it all alone. She’s his mother too. Even if he’s paying more, he should still help out. Besides, with her illness… it’s not really about the money anymore.” Chloe sighed. “I’ll think about it. They’re just so busy.” After her husband left, Chloe came back into the room. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. She woke me gently and helped me dress. She watched over me as I washed up, then placed breakfast on the table in front of me. “Take your time, Mom,” she said. “I have to take Liv to school.” Olivia lived at home while she was at college, coming back to stay the night now and then. But these past two years, I felt like her visits were getting shorter, the gaps between them longer. Sometimes it felt like I hadn't seen her in half a year. I’d ask Chloe about it, and she’d always say, “What are you talking about? She was just here last weekend.” “You’re lying,” I’d mumble. “I don’t believe you. If she was here, why can’t I remember it?” At first, Chloe would argue back. “I’m not lying! Why would I lie about that?” Now, she just shakes her head with a sad little smile and leaves the room. That only made me more certain she was lying to me. I watched Olivia put on her coat, confused. “Liv, where are you going?” She gave me a thin smile. “To class, Grandma. Mom just told you.” I nodded. Right. School. I didn't say anything else. For some reason, I had the feeling she didn’t like me very much anymore. There was an impatience in her eyes, a kind of forced politeness. I could still remember how she used to look at me when she was a little girl and adored me. Her eyes would be shining, sparkling with love. She would swing my hand back and forth, chanting “Grandma, Grandma!” She loved to cling to me, begging me to play with her, to tell her stories. The door clicked shut, and the house fell silent again. My gaze drifted around the room, finally settling on the breakfast in front of me. When did this get here? I didn’t remember bringing it to the table. How did it appear? I scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal, my hand trembling uncontrollably. Half of it splattered onto my lap before it ever reached my mouth. I looked down at the fresh clothes I’d just put on and reached for a napkin to wipe it clean. The oatmeal dissolved in my mouth. It was tasteless. I didn’t like it. I didn’t take another bite. I tossed the napkin into the small trash bin on the table and turned my head to stare out the window. I felt like there was something I needed to do. Something important. What was it? 2 It felt truly, terribly important. The harder I tried to remember, the more it slipped away, leaving me agitated and frustrated. What was I supposed to do? Leaning heavily on the cane beside me, I pushed myself to my feet. Shaky, step by step, I made my way to the front door. We lived on the ground floor, so even though walking was an effort, I could still get outside. I followed the road slowly, my steps shuffling along until I reached the small river at the edge of our neighborhood. The sun glittered on the water, the light so bright it was blinding. That’s right. Last night, when Chloe had suddenly flipped on the light, it had been just as jarring. “Why… won’t you just die…” The words echoed in my mind. I mumbled them under my breath as my feet began to move toward the water’s edge. “Ma’am, you can’t go any further!” a young woman called out from behind me. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me. I didn’t know her. Why would she be calling to me? So I kept going. I was just one step from the edge of the bank when a hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me back. “Ma’am, be careful!” I stumbled back a few steps, and a young man caught me, steadying me from behind. I turned around, raised my cane, and swung it at him with all my might. “What are you doing? What do you want!” I shrieked. “Are you trying to push me in?” The young man dodged my frantic swings, looking at me like I was insane. “No good deed goes unpunished, I guess!” he muttered, and quickly walked away. The girl, however, ran over and took my arm gently. “Where do you live?” she asked softly. Where did I live? I squinted, trying to think. I couldn’t remember. “Do you have a phone? A cell phone?” I felt my pockets. “Yes.” The girl coaxed me over to a bench and sat me down. She made a few calls. Not long after, my son, Michael, rushed into the park. She spoke to him for a few minutes, and he nodded repeatedly, clearly thanking her. After she left, he came over and crouched down beside me. “Mom, why did you wander out by yourself?” he asked, his voice strained. “Where’s Chloe? Why wasn’t she with you?” I didn’t dare tell him why I’d come out. “Chloe took Liv to school,” I said. He sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. “Oh, Mom. Can you please stop running off like this? Have you already forgotten the last time you got lost? You promised you’d only go out when Chloe was with you!” He was about to say more when his phone rang. After he took the call, his expression darkened even more. “Great,” he snapped, ending the call. “There goes another client. Can you please stop making trouble for us? Just stay home! You’re wasting our time, you’re wasting our money. Can’t you see that?” I just stared at the shimmering water. This wouldn’t work. Someone would always find me. “Mom? Mom!” His voice grew louder. “I’m talking to you! Are you even listening to me?” I blinked, returning to the moment, and gave a slow, wooden nod. Michael ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his anger deflating into weary resignation. He took my arm and led me back to Chloe’s house. We had just stepped inside when Chloe rushed in, her face pale with worry. She looked me up and down, and a wave of relief washed over her when she saw I was unharmed. “Mom, what were you doing out there?” she cried. “Do I have to spell everything out for you now?” When I didn’t look at her or respond, she stepped directly in front of me, blocking my view. “I’m asking you a question! Have you completely lost your mind?” Before I could answer, Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. “First, let me ask you what you were doing,” he said, his voice low and angry. “You promised you would take care of Mom. Is this how you do it?” 3 “My life doesn’t revolve around her! Am I supposed to just forget about Liv?” “Liv is practically grown! She’s not a child anymore! She can get to school on her own. Can Mom take care of herself?” Under his relentless questioning, Chloe finally exploded. “Fine! Blame everything on me!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “I’m the one who never sleeps, never gets a moment’s rest, and I’m still the one who gets blamed.” “If you’re so good at this, why don’t you take her to your house?” The more she spoke, the more the injustice of it all overwhelmed her, and she started to sob. “I… my wife and I are busy,” Michael stammered, knowing he was on shaky ground. His voice lost its aggressive edge. I shot him a glare and smacked his shoulder. “Stop bullying your sister!” He’d been doing it his whole life. One day he’d snatch her toys, the next he’d steal her snacks. And now he was yelling at her. “And what do you mean I can’t take care of myself?” Both Chloe and Michael froze. Michael looked down at the floor, silent. Chloe’s tears just flowed faster. My heart ached for her. I reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, whispering in her ear. “There, there. We’ll just ignore your brother. Don’t cry, okay?” I soothed. “If he ever bullies you again, you tell me, and I’ll give him a good smack.” “Mom… he’s not bullying me…” Chloe shook her head, her hand covering mine and pressing it against her cheek. She rubbed her face against my palm, as sweet and pliant as she was when she was a little girl. But back then, I could always make her feel better. Now, the more I wiped her tears, the more they seemed to fall. “Alright, Mom, let’s go to the bathroom. You haven’t been all morning.” I shook my head. Every trip to the bathroom was an ordeal. Getting up and down from the toilet took so much effort. I didn’t even feel like I had to go. I didn’t understand why she was always trying to make me. “Come on, just try. Please.” “If you don’t, I’m not going to take care of you anymore!” Her face was stern, her voice a mix of threat and plea as she helped me into the bathroom. “What did I tell you?” On the adult diaper, a pale yellow stain stood out against the clean white fabric. She reached out to change it. “I didn’t pee!” “You didn’t? Then what’s this?” she asked, pointing at the pad. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I had no memory of it. I reached out a curious hand to touch it. If she was right, it should be wet. “Don’t touch it!” Chloe snapped. I pulled my hand back and stood quietly, letting her do what she needed to do. She was always like this, accusing me of things I hadn’t done. She said I couldn’t control my bladder, that I didn’t know when I was full or hungry. She even said I cursed at people. I never did. But it didn’t matter. If it made her happy to fuss over me, I would let her. That’s what I told myself. Once I was cleaned up, she helped me back to bed. The two of them stood just outside my door, their voices low whispers. Michael was apologizing. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I was just so worried.” “Maybe… maybe we should have her come stay with us for a while. Or… a nursing home?” The last two words were spoken softly, laced with hesitation. Chloe was silent for a few seconds. “Let’s just see. I can’t bear the thought of it. But if she keeps acting out like this, I don’t know how much more I can take. Look, the breakfast I made is still untouched. I have to worry about everything for her, coaxing her to eat, to sleep, to use the toilet.” “They say the elderly become like children, but she’s not as easy to fool as a child. She fights me every time I try to give her medicine. She won’t drink water, only juice. Her body can’t handle that!” “I can’t let this destroy me. I still have Liv.” A deep silence fell over the house. It was so quiet it scared me. “Chloe… Chloe…” I called out her name two or three times. She and Michael came back into the room together. “What is it, Mom?” I looked at her for a long moment, my lips moving without a sound. “Don’t get rid of me…” 4 “What?” They hadn’t heard me. They leaned in closer. I repeated myself, a little louder this time. “Don’t get rid of me. Don’t send me away. I’m scared.” Even though I often felt like Chloe was fussing over me for no reason, I also knew she was the one who cared for me with all her heart, the one who was truly good to me. Michael’s wife was too busy and didn’t much like me anyway, so I didn’t want to go to their house. And a nursing home… I wanted to stay away from a place like that even more. I wanted to stay here, at home, with the people I still recognized. “I’ll be good,” I promised. “I won’t wander off anymore…” Both of my children’s eyes filled with tears. Chloe reached out and stroked my cheek. “We won’t send you away, Mom. We won’t. We were just talking nonsense.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “You just get some rest. Be good, okay?” Her promise brought me a small measure of peace. “Tonight,” I said, “I want the sleeping medicine.” The doctor had prescribed sleeping pills for me a long time ago, but I never took them. I was convinced any pill was poison, and besides, I couldn’t seem to swallow them. But from now on, I had to be good. I couldn’t let my daughter worry about things like this anymore. Chloe agreed, and then she and Michael left the room again. “What do we do?” I heard her say. “Her mind is just… gone. She used to be such a strong, proud woman.” “I know,” Michael replied. “Remember when she hurt her back? She couldn't even move on her own, but she refused to let us come over and help.” “Well…” A long sigh followed, and then silence again. I drifted back to sleep. That night, Chloe gave me a sleeping pill. But I didn't take it. I just pretended. When she wasn't looking, I slipped the small tablet under my pillow. It was my habit to sleep with my hand tucked there. As long as I could feel the pill, a little lump under the fabric, I would remember what I needed to do. I had to save them. Once I had enough, I wouldn't have to be a burden anymore. A week passed quickly. Chloe started to notice something was wrong. I was supposedly taking my pill every night, but I still couldn’t sleep. I’d often start shouting that Michael wasn’t home yet, that I had to wait for him, to leave the door unlocked. She called the doctor. After some consideration, he increased my dose from one pill to two. My collection grew twice as fast. Finally, the night came. We had another fight, this time because I refused to eat dinner. “I’ve reheated this three times already!” Chloe’s voice was sharp with frustration. “Every time I ask, you say you’ll eat. Then I bring it to you, and you refuse. Are you just playing games with me?” She slammed the bowl down in front of me. “Eat! You haven’t eaten all day!” The food inside was chopped into tiny pieces. I hadn’t been able to chew properly for a long time. I still shook my head. Her patience was gone. “Fine! FINE! I’m done! I’m not taking care of you anymore! Live or die, I don’t care!” she yelled. “Isn’t it enough that I wait on you hand and foot all day? You don’t understand anything, so I try to help you, but you could at least listen, couldn't you?” “If you had even a shred of pity for me, you wouldn’t torment me like this!” She stormed out, slamming her bedroom door behind her. I was left alone in the quiet room, my granddaughter Olivia, who had just come home, staring at me. “Grandma, please,” Liv pleaded gently. “Just eat a little bit. Why do you always have to fight with her? Can’t you just try not to make my mom so angry?” I gave a wooden nod. She was still a child. She didn't understand. It was easier to just agree with whatever she said. Seeing my passive response, Olivia gave up and went to her mother’s room to try and calm her down. I heard Chloe’s voice, intentionally raised. “I’m not sleeping with her tonight. Let her sleep by herself.” Alone. Good. That would be better. I reached under my pillow. Alone in the quiet dark, a sense of peace settled over me. Sleep, a voice whispered. Just sleep, and it will all be over. And for the first time in a long time, I listened. The next morning, Chloe walked into my room, her face still set in a grim line. But she found me lying perfectly still in bed. So still, I wasn’t even breathing.
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