But how can I? As much as I want to march into the living room and tell her I am moving out, I fear she will become depressed living alone. I feel guilty and am questioning my future plans. As I envision the photographs I’ll frame and hang along walls, I feel a pang of sadness. I don’t want my mother to be without companionship. I don’t want my mother to be alone at almost 64, living in an apartment that was once full of life, children and a husband. I don’t want to hurt my mother but I know I need to live my life. As I stare at the box marked ‘KITCHEN,’ filled with midnight blue cups, silverware and plates, I wonder if I can leave her.
