I finished my coffee while it was still hot

Dear Delyara, For eight years, I cared for my mother with dementia while raising two children and working from home. Every cup of coffee was interrupted by a call, an accident, a medication reminder, or someone needing help. My mother moved into professional care last month after she began wandering at night. The decision broke my heart and saved my health. This morning, I made coffee and sat beside the window. Nobody called my name. The cup remained warm until the final sip. At first, the silence felt accusing, as though comfort were proof that I had abandoned her. Then sunlight moved across the table, and I allowed myself to remain seated. A quiet moment can contain grief and relief without requiring either one to apologise. Today, I drank one complete cup of coffee and understood that rest is not evidence that love has ended.