Even without my reply, she continued as she always did, massaging my limbs and moving my joints to keep them from stiffening. Her every touch was gentle, as if I were something fragile.
“Mom, look, the weather’s nice today.”
“After breakfast, let me take you out for a walk. The doctor said getting some fresh air will help your recovery.”
She glanced out the window, trying to find something cheerful to say.
But I stayed cold. “I don’t want to.”
Her hands paused for a second, then she said nothing. After finishing the massage, she brought warm water to gently wipe my face and clean my hands before heading to the kitchen to cook.
The live-stream comments kept coming nonstop.
[This old woman still has that blank look; just seeing her annoys me.]
[Right. Her daughter’s hand is still bleeding, yet she’s still serving her, and the mother doesn’t even care?]
[So awful. Some people don’t deserve kindness!]
That day, my daughter didn’t go to work. She said she wanted to stay and spend the whole day with me.
After finishing all the chores, she pushed me out to the balcony to sit in the sunlight.