Now, nearing 70, she wanted to finally live on her own terms: paint, travel, rest. She wasn’t abandoning us—just choosing herself, for once.
And she was right.
If I can’t honor her choice now, what message does that send to my child? That love only counts when it’s exhausting? That freedom must be postponed forever?
Her retirement isn’t selfish—it’s powerful. She’s teaching us that living fully is something we alldeserve.
So here’s to my mom: for everything she gave—and for finally choosing joy.
