INDIFFERENCE
Dad kept changing by the day, and Mom was growing weaker and weaker. At first, his whole avoidance of the situation seemed understandable—it was his way of coping, maybe. But now? It was just plain denial. He’d stay too late at the restaurant, work weekends, and even spent a night out once. He was clearly losing it, like he thought ignoring it all would make it go away. It reminded me of how he dealt with Grandma’s death—just shut it down, like not talking about it would make the pain disappear.
But this was different. This was Mom. My mom. And she needed him. The man who’d once loved her so much was now pretending she didn’t exist, like he’d given up on her before she was even gone.