As I drove away from my son’s house, the night enveloped me in a comforting embrace, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt free. The road stretched ahead, illuminated by the glow of the streetlights, each one a beacon guiding me towards a new beginning. The further I drove, the lighter I felt, as if with every mile, the weight of unappreciation and neglect lifted off my shoulders.
I didn’t have a clear destination in mind, just a vague idea of heading towards the coast. Somewhere warm, somewhere inviting, where I could dip my toes in the ocean and feel the sun on my face. The thought of the beach, with its endless horizon and the rhythmic lull of the waves, was the only thing anchoring me amidst the swirl of emotions.
Thirty million dollars. It was an impossibly large figure, one that I still hadn’t fully wrapped my mind around. But more than the money, it was the freedom it represented that excited me. No longer was I bound by the invisible chains of familial obligation, no longer was I the unpaid help, the unthanked caregiver, or the silent sufferer.
