Chapter 16 - AUDREY’S HEALTH GETS WORSE BEFORE IT GETS BETTER
Cancer stories tempt people into miracles.
We did not get one.
Audrey’s next scan showed partial response.
Good.
Then her blood counts dropped.
Treatment delayed.
Bad.
A new medication improved counts enough to resume.
Good.
Neuropathy worsened.
Bad.
She lost more weight.
Then regained some.
No clean line.
One night she called me.
“Gabriele.”
“What?”
“If I die—”
“No.”
She waited.
I hated myself.
“Sorry.”
Then:
“If I die, Theresa does not get Nora because I died.”
“No.”
“Not because of this case. Because you don’t default to family structure.”
“I won’t.”
“Put it in writing.”
We did.
Not to erase my rights.
I was father.
If Audrey died, I remained parent.
But our estate documents nominated backup guardians only if both of us were unavailable.
No Theresa.
Professional trustee for Nora’s financial interests if needed.
Medical and school records clear.
No ambiguous “family matriarch” role.
Then Audrey asked:
“What if I live?”
I smiled.
“Then you keep telling me what I do wrong.”
“Good.”
Not a deathbed scene.
Planning.
Adults can discuss death without surrendering to it.
May you like
Theresa had treated Audrey’s prognosis as an opening.
We treated it as a reason for clarity.
