In reality, something had grown in my body that should have been investigated long before.
I was hospitalized for investigations and training of the intervention. Surgeons discussed with me the risks of the operation, taking into account my overall age and condition.
The night before the intervention, Daniel came up with a bag of old photos.
I found them in my dad’s drawer.
Among them was a photo from our wedding.
Robert was twenty-four, and I was twenty-two. We stood in front of the church, holding hands.
Daniel placed the photo on the bedside table.
Mom, can I ask you something?
Of course.
Would you really want another child?
I watched the photo for a long time.
No, Daniel. I loved your father, but I didn’t want to be a mother anymore. I went to the consultation because he was pushing. If he didn’t die, I should have told him what I wanted.
