After my son convinced me to move into a nursing home, I wrote him letters every day telling him how much I missed him. He never responded to any of them, until one day, a stranger came to take me home.
When I turned 81, I was diagnosed with osteoporosis, which made it hard for me to move without assistance. My condition also made it difficult for my son, Tyler, and his wife, Macy, to care for me, so they decided to move me into a nursing home.
“We can’t take care of you all day, Mom,” Tyler said. “We have work to do. We aren’t caretakers.”
I wondered why he suddenly felt this way toward me, considering I always tried to stay out of his way to avoid disrupting his daily routine. I spent most of my time in my room, using a walker to move around the house when necessary.
“I’ll stay out of your way, I promise. But please, don’t send me to a nursing home. Your father built this house for me, and I’d love to stay here for the rest of my life,” I pleaded with him.
Tyler shrugged, saying that the house my late husband, James, had built was “too big for me.”
“Come on, Mom,” he said. “Let Macy and me have the house! Look at how much space there is: we could have a gym and separate offices. There’s plenty of room for renovations.”
At that moment, I realized their decision to move me to a nursing home wasn’t about ensuring I received proper care, but rather about their desire to have the house for themselves. I felt deeply hurt, trying to hold back tears as I realized that, in some way, Tyler had become a selfish man.
“What did I do wrong?” I asked myself as I walked to my room that night. I thought I had raised a well-mannered son, but it seemed I was mistaken. I never would have expected my son to betray me like this.
With few options, Tyler and Macy took me to a nearby nursing home, saying that the nurses would take care of me around the clock. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll visit as often as we can,” Tyler assured me.
Hearing this, I thought maybe moving to a nursing home wasn’t so bad, as they would still come to visit me. What I didn’t know was that Tyler was lying and was just trying to get rid of me.
Each day in the nursing home felt like an eternity. Although the nurses were kind and it was nice to talk to the other residents, I still missed being with my family, not in a place full of strangers.
Without a phone or tablet, I wrote letters to Tyler every day, asking him to visit or update me on how they were doing. I never received a response or a visit.
After two years in the nursing home, I lost all hope that anyone would come. “Please, take me home,” I prayed each night, but after so much time, I tried to convince myself to stop hoping.
One day, however, I was surprised when my nurse informed me that a man in his forties was at the office asking about me. “Could my son finally be here to visit me?” I said, quickly grabbing my walker and heading toward the entrance.
When I arrived, I had a big smile on my face, thinking it was Tyler, but to my surprise, it was another man I hadn’t seen in years. “Mom!” he exclaimed, giving me a big hug.
“Ron? Is that you, Ron?” I asked.
“It’s me, Mom. How have you been? I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I just got back from Europe and came straight to your house,” he said.
“My house? Did you see Tyler and Macy there? They put me in a nursing home a few years ago, and I haven’t seen them since,” I revealed.
Ron looked at me with sadness and asked me to sit down. We sat across from each other on the couch, and he began to tell me what had happened during the two years I had been in the nursing home.
“Mom, I’m sorry you have to hear this from me. I thought you already knew,” he began. “Tyler and Macy died in a fire last year… I only found out when I went to their house and saw it abandoned. I decided to check the mailbox to see if I could find any information on where you might be, and I saw all your unread letters,” he explained.
I couldn’t believe what Ron was telling me. Although I harbored resentment toward my son for what he had done to me, learning of his death still broke my heart. I cried the entire day, mourning the loss of both my son and my daughter-in-law, Macy.
Through all my tears, Ron never left my side. He comforted me and stayed with me in silence until I was ready to speak again.
Ron was a boy I had once brought into my home. He and Tyler had been childhood friends and were inseparable when they were younger.
Unlike Tyler, who had everything he could ever want, Ron grew up in poverty and was raised by his grandmother after his parents died. I treated him like my own son, feeding him, clothing him, and letting him live with us until he left to study in Europe.
After getting a well-paying job in Europe, Ron never returned to the U.S., and over time, we lost contact. I never thought I would see him again until he showed up at the nursing home.
“Mom,” he said after I had finally calmed down. “I don’t think you should be in this nursing home. Will you let me take you home? I’d love to take care of you,” he offered.
I couldn’t help but cry again. My own son had kicked me out of the house, and here was a man willing to take me in, even though he wasn’t my blood relative. “You would really do that for me?”
“Of course, Mom. You don’t need to ask. You raised me to be who I am today. Without you, I’m nothing,” Ron said, hugging me.
That night, Ron helped me pack my things and took me to his new home. There, I discovered that he had a large family who welcomed me with open arms. I spent the remaining years of my life happily, surrounded by people who truly cared for and loved me.
What can we learn from this story?
Respect your elders and never forget what they have done for you. Tyler didn’t appreciate his mother despite all the sacrifices she made for him. He didn’t want to take on the responsibility of caring for her as she aged and chose to send her to a nursing home. Family isn’t always about blood. Ron hadn’t seen her in years, but he never forgot the kindness she showed him when he was younger. In the end, he chose to repay that kindness by taking her in and caring for her for the rest of her life.
