After my son persuaded me to move into a nursing home, I wrote him daily letters expressing how much I missed him. He never responded—until a stranger came, explained the situation, and took me home.
At 81, osteoporosis made it hard for me to get around. Because of my condition, my son Tyler and his wife Macy decided to place me in a nursing facility.
Tyler said, “We can’t be taking care of you all day, Mom. We have jobs. We’re not caregivers.”
I was puzzled by his sudden attitude since I always tried not to interfere with their routines. I used my walker to get around quietly when needed.
“I promise to stay out of your way. Please don’t send me away. Your father built this house for me, and I want to live here forever,” I pleaded.
Tyler brushed me off, saying the house my late husband James built was “too big” for me.
“Come on, Mom,” he said. “Leave the house to Macy and me! There’s plenty of space for a gym and offices. Lots of room to renovate.”
It became clear to me that their true motive for the nursing home wasn’t my care but taking over the house. I was heartbroken and struggled to hold back tears, realizing Tyler had become selfish.
That night, I wondered, “Where did I go wrong?” I thought I’d raised a decent man but was mistaken. I never expected such betrayal.
With little choice, Tyler and Macy moved me to a nearby nursing home where I was to receive round-the-clock care. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll visit as much as we can,” Tyler said.
I hoped the nursing home wouldn’t be so bad since they promised to visit. I had no idea Tyler was lying just to get me out of their way.
Each day there felt endless. The staff and other residents were kind, but I longed to be with family, not strangers.
Without a phone or tablet, I wrote Tyler letters daily, asking him to visit or tell me how he was. I never got a reply or a visit.
After two years, I lost hope. I prayed nightly to go home but tried not to get my hopes up.
Then one day, my nurse surprised me—there was a man in his forties at the front desk asking for me. “Is it finally Tyler?” I wondered, grabbing my walker quickly.
When I arrived, I smiled expecting Tyler, but it was a man I hadn’t seen in ages. He called, “Mom!” and hugged me tightly.
“Ron? Is that you?” I asked.
“Yes, Mom. How are you? Sorry I didn’t visit sooner. I just got back from Europe and went straight to your house,” he said.
“My house? Did you see Tyler and Macy? They put me in this nursing home years ago and haven’t come since,” I said.
Ron looked sad and asked me to sit. On the couch, he told me what happened in the last two years.
“I hate to tell you this, Mom. I thought you knew,” he began. “Tyler and Macy died in a house fire last year. I found out when I saw your house abandoned. I checked the mailbox and found all your unopened letters.”
I couldn’t believe it. Even though I resented Tyler for what he did, hearing of his death broke my heart. I cried for him and Macy all day.
Ron stayed by my side, comforting me silently until I was ready.
Ron had lived with me as a boy. He and Tyler were close childhood friends.
After Ron’s parents died, he was raised by his grandmother in poverty, unlike Tyler who had everything. I cared for Ron like a son until he left for college in Europe.
Ron stayed overseas after landing a good job, and we lost touch. Before Ron came to the nursing home, I never expected to see him again.
After I calmed down, Ron said, “Mom, I don’t think you belong here. Will you let me take you home? I want to care for you.”
I cried again—my own son pushed me away, but a man unrelated by blood wanted to care for me. Could he really mean it?
“Yes, Mom. Don’t doubt it. You made me who I am,” Ron said, hugging me. “I’m nothing without you.”
That evening, Ron helped me pack and moved me into his home. I learned he had a large, welcoming family.
I passed away happy, surrounded by those who truly loved and cared for me.
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