The end was coming.

I had known it was inevitable for almost a decade but it had always been a distant intangible thing. It was something I had never let myself dwell upon. After all, who wanted to think about the day they lost their best friend?

Not me.

Still, it didn't matter whether I wanted to face the truth or not. The disease was like that. It came slowly and took a person apart piece by piece until they were only a shadow of their former selves.

I rubbed at the ache in my chest. Staring up at the woman who had raised me from my crouched position as her side, grief clawed at my insides. Taking her hands in mine, Evelyn's fingers were cold and frail. When had that happened?

They clenched around mine. My heart skipped a beat. A brief flare of hope. Did she remember? Or was it just an involuntary reflex?

My mum's mouth lifted on one side into the semblance of a smile. It slid away just as quickly.

A knot formed in my stomach and a heaviness settled into my limbs. As I watched the spark in my mum's eyes fade, hidden behind a fog of confusion as the disease reclaimed its tight grip, I could no longer hide from the truth. Her end was almost here. Death was so close I could feel the chill of its breath on the back of my neck.

My throat burned and my lashes blinked rapidly against the sting of tears. It was hopeless. Her time was running out and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. And yet, in some ways, I had already lost her.

The change was always stark. One moment, it was almost like I had my mum back. She would sit straight backed in her favourite chair, the familiar twinkle of adventure in her eyes. It didn't matter if she could no longer find the right words because, in those moments, we always found a way to communicate. And then, in the next, she was just gone. From one heart beat to the next, it was as if her entire being had been hidden away.

Those glimpses of the woman she had been were precious. They were also becoming fewer and further between. In a futile battle, I tried everything I could to make them last as long as possible, clinging to them like a raft in a storm.

The disease had other ideas. Even now, her entire frame retreated in on itself. Her shoulders slumped and her back became hunched. Her head titled awkwardly on her neck as she slumped into the over-padded cushions of her chair. It was like looking at a stranger. A stranger with my mum's face.

Her fingers twitched in mine as her unfocused gaze drifted absently around the room. I rubbed my thumb across her knuckle soothingly, hoping to ease her transition. As the disease progressed, this part was always the worst. Her reactions were never the same. Sometimes, she was calm and docile. Others, the confusion was enough to turn Evelyn into a fury of fists.

"It's okay," I murmured, breathing easy when she relaxed back into the soft cushions without protest.

When her gaze settled upon the TV, lost in a wordless trance, I gave her hand one last squeeze and allowed myself to retreat. The movement however broke whatever moment she had been lost in.

"Wh-?"

I didn't need to turn to see the furrow between her brows. The foreign slightly slurred sound of her confused speech was enough. I rubbed a hand over my chest. It would never get any easier.

"Good morning, Evelyn," I greeted cheerily, turning to face the older woman. I buried my own distress at the lack of recognition. "Let's get you ready for the day? How does that sound?"

I went through the motions. Brushing her wiry grey hair and applying creams to the dry papery skin of her cheek. Finally, I dropped a kiss on to her mum's head and whispered, "I love you, Mum."

There was no response but I didn't expect one. Instead, I retreated to the safety of the kitchen.

Bracing my hands on either side of the sink, the chips in the worn countertop biting into my skin, I allowed the smile to drop. My face ached from the strain of keeping up appearances. Whoever said if you smile long enough you will start to feel happy had clearly never walked in my shoes. I was just so bloody tired of it all and yet, if given the chance to do it over again, I would never make a different choice.

Turning on the tap, I let the water run. It splashed against the chipped plates and glasses waiting to be washed. The sound was soothing in the presence of my discordant thoughts.

A part of me longed for change. Like Groundhog Day, my life revolved around caring for mum, work, and cleaning the house in an endless loop. I could not and would not begrudge mum for the current state of my life. Evelyn had given me everything. And yet, after years of this cycle, it was hard not to want more.

My stomach churned uncomfortably as I plunged my hands in to the too hot water. The burn did nothing to temper the guilt that wrapped around my heart. What are you thinking, Rosie? This is enough.

"But is it enough?" I whispered the question before I could stop myself, my voice loud in the emptiness of the kitchen. There was no one to answer my question.

I wasn't sure I was ready for the answer anyway.

I just hated this situation we found ourselves in. From dawn to well past dusk, I worked and worked. Yet, it never made a difference. It would never make a difference.

My mum, who had once been vibrant and full or life, would never get better. Every drug trial, routine, or mind boosting smoothie could do nothing to stave off the inevitable. The battle was already lost but I couldn't find it in my heart to admit defeat. When I got the rare glimpses of my mum, the true Evelyn I remembered from my childhood, a part of me hoped the disease was just a bad nightmare.

A sigh escaped my lips. My tired aching eyes closed for several long seconds. Reality was more horrifying than the worst of her dreams.

I'm just so bloody tired.

As tired as the house which had once been home to my happiest memories, I thought as my eyes pulled open once more. The kitchen cabinets were wonky and worn, barely hanging on to the walls which had supported them through the years. Even the paint was peeling away from the plaster. I really need to get that sorted.

"Knock knock," came a cheery voice a moment before the door from the garden swung inwards.

A tall woman stepped into to the room. Her royal blue nurse's uniform was comforting as was the familiar scent that was just her – the sterile clinical smell of the alcohol sanitiser permanently mixed with the powerful scent of white musk.

"Morning, Tanya." I greeted, stepping away from the sink to dry my hands on the dishtowel.

Despite the weariness clinging to my frame, I tried to put on a brave face. My lips pulled up into a welcoming smile but I just didn't have the power to make it convincing. It slipped off of my face in moments.

"Oh, Hun," the older woman said softly, quickly placing her possessions on the small dining table set off to one side, big enough only for two, before closing the distance between us. "Is it a bad day?"

Her hands were warm as they rested on my shoulders. The weight of her touch was a comfort I hadn't realised I'd been missing. And it had been a long time. Mum's present moments were always too brief. When they were here, I never wanted to waste them. What was my loneliness in comparison to her losing her very self?

But fuck, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been hugged. How sad is that?

Despite my internal pity party, I shrugged my shoulders, "Just a four. She's a little confused but overall she's calm."

The hand on my shoulder squeezed. It didn't change the situation but the burden felt lighter when Tanya was around. It was like there was finally a capable grown up I could rely upon to take charge of the situation. It didn't matter that I was twenty eight and had been my mum's primary carer since her diagnosis. Sometimes, it just felt good to know there was someone else there who knew what they were doing.

Lifting my head, I tucked a dark curl behind my ear and sighed. In the grand scheme of this illness, it was a good day. It was just hard to classify the day as good when I was slowly losing my parent and, in so doing, becoming the parent myself.

"I know you don't want to hear it but I think you need to reconsider -."

"I can't." I cut her off sharply before burying my face into my hands. "I promised I would keep her in her home."

I promised.

Unbidden, a tear leaked from the corner of my eye and travelled down my cheek. That promise was burned into my soul. I drew in shuddering breath, desperate to ease the tightness in my chest.

"Rosie, I think your mum would forgive you for this." Tanya stated softly, her dark eyes full of compassion. "She's going to need more support soon. As brilliant as you are, it's too much for just one person. It would be more beneficial to you and to her that she had care around the clock."

I shook my head even though the truth was staring me straight in the face. I was failing her. I was doing everything and yet I was still failing.

"Please, just think about it." Tanya urged, her fingers squeezing my shoulders gently. "Your mum knows you love her."

Before I could argue any further, there was a shuffle near the door. Pulling my hands down my face to erase any trace of my weakness, I glanced up.

A younger woman hovered in the doorway and, at Tanya's beckon, cautiously stepped into the house through the open door. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, a large bag of supplies slung over her shoulder. She wore a royal blue uniform too but her expression displayed her inexperience.

"This is Bryony, she's joining me for the next few weeks."

"Nice to meet you." I said, putting more effort into my smile in the presence of a stranger. It must had worked as she blew out a sigh of relief.

"You too," she replied, stepping further inside.  I fought back a wince as her gaze took in each and every shabby and worn feature of the kitchen.

My gaze drifted to the small clock on the wall behind her. "Fuck." I blurted, my brain registering the time. "Shit. Sorry, I'm going to be late."

"Go and get yourself ready, Hun." Tanya instructed, her lips quirking up as she took the dishtowel from my hand. "We'll take care of mum."

"Thank you," I said gratefully, hurrying from the room.

I may have been paying Tanya for her services but I still felt grateful for her continued presence and support. Without her, I would never have gotten this far. I was always one moment from breaking. At least, that's how it felt.

Passing through the lounge, mum was deeply engrossed in a nature documentary. I paused a moment by her chair. A part of me wanted to give her a hug. A kiss on the cheek like I used to when I left for work.

Then, with a reluctant shake of my head, I carried on past her and into the hallway. Slipping my feet into my black work shoes, I picked up my bag and car keys and left. I locked the door firmly behind me, pulling down on the handle to check it.

Climbing into the small hatchback parked curb-side, I stared at my mum's home. We had always been closer than mother and daughter. We had always kept our promises to one another and it hurt to think of breaking one now. But, as I took in the signs of neglect - from the missing roof tiles to the overgrown hedges - Tanya's words churned over and over in my mind.

Sighing, I turned the key in the ignition and eased my car into the flow of traffic. Maybe she was right? Maybe this was all too much for me to cope with. But who could I turn to? Certainly not Diane. My older sister lived hundreds of miles away and had her own family to worry about.

If only I could ask Mum.

Yet, I couldn't. This time, I would have to make the decision alone.

I just wish I didn't have to.