For ten years, I lived under the same roof as him, yet I never truly belonged there. To his children, I was invisible in the most obvious way. Not ignored completely, but reduced to a role so small it barely registered. I was “the nurse.” The woman who managed his medications, cleaned his room, adjusted his pillows in the middle of the night, and made sure he made it through another day. I existed in their world only as long as I was useful. They came and went with polite smiles that felt rehearsed, never staying long enough to notice...
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