[Remember when I said I had practice making that final decision. Here's a fictionalized account of an actual conversation about an actual event where I had to do that.]

The machines beeped.

I knew I was supposed to cheer her up, but this one memory ground at my heart.

"Mom? The last time Grandmother was here, the nurse said if he gave any more painkillers, she could die."

My mother nodded.

I waited.

The oxygen hissed.

Seconds passed.

The machines beeped.

"I told him to go ahead."

I swallowed, unsure what next to say.

She lifted her oxygen mask off.

"I know. I always knew. I'm glad you did that."

She put the mask back on.

The machines beeped.