“And children usually don’t ask their parents to leave their own home while they are still alive.”
Our son froze.
No one spoke.
My husband walked over to the window.
Down in the garden, two elderly women were sitting, while a nurse was walking another resident along the path.
“This place took us in,” my husband said quietly. “In these four days, complete strangers have shown us more patience than our own son did for several months.”
Tears appeared in our son’s eyes.
“So this is how it ends?”
My husband turned around.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re really going to give everything away?”
“Yes.”
“And the urmhouse too?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll let me end up with nothing?”
My husband stared at him for a long time.
“No.”
Our son looked up hopefully.
My husband walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll leave you exactly what you gave us.”
Our son frowned.
“What?”
“Freedom.”
He removed his hand from his shoulder.
“You wanted a life without the constant responsibility of caring for your parents.”
My husband’s voice remained calm.
