Real story

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 difficult for me to move without assistance. My condition also made it hard 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 to me. “We have jobs. We’re not caregivers.”

I wondered why he suddenly felt this way about me, considering I had always tried to stay out of his way so as not to disrupt his daily routine. I stayed in my room and used a walker to help me when I needed to move to another part of the house.

“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.

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 all the space— we could have a gym and separate offices. There’s enough room for renovation.”

At that moment, I realized their decision to move me into a nursing home wasn’t about making sure I received proper care, but rather about their desire to have the house for themselves. I felt deeply hurt, trying to hide my tears as I realized that, in some way, Tyler had become a selfish man.

“What did I do wrong?” I wondered as I walked to my room that night. I thought I had raised a well-mannered son, but it seemed I had been 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, where they said the nurses would take care of me 24/7. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll visit you as often as we can,” Tyler assured me.

Hearing that, I thought that maybe moving to a nursing home wouldn’t be so bad since they were going to come see me anyway. What I didn’t know was that Tyler was lying and 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 chat with the other patients, I still missed being with my family and not in a place full of strangers.

Without a phone or tablet, I wrote letters to Tyler every day, asking him to visit or tell me how he was doing. I never received a response or a visit.

After two years in the nursing home, I had lost all hope that anyone would come. “Please, take me home,” I prayed every night, but after so long, I tried to convince myself not to have any more hope.

One day, however, I was surprised when my nurse told me that a man in his forties was at the front desk asking about me. “Could my son have finally come to visit me?” I said, quickly grabbing my walker before heading to 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 are you? 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 sadly 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 about where you might be, and I saw all your unread letters,” he explained.

I couldn’t believe what Ron was telling me. Although I had harbored resentment toward my son for what he had done to me, learning of his death still broke my heart. I cried all day, mourning the loss of him and my daughter-in-law, Macy.

Through my tears, Ron never left my side. He comforted me and sat 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 were childhood friends and inseparable when they were younger.

Unlike Tyler, who had everything he could have wanted, Ron lived in poverty and was raised by his grandmother after his parents died. I treated him like my own son, fed him, clothed him, and he lived with us until he left to study in Europe.

After securing a well-paying job in Europe, Ron never returned to the U.S., and over time, we lost contact. I never thought I’d see him again, until he showed up at the nursing home.

“Mom,” he said when 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 cast me out of my home, and here was a man who wanted to take me in, even though he wasn’t my blood relative. “Would you really do that for me?”

“Of course, Mom. You don’t have 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 he had a large family who welcomed me warmly. I spent my remaining years happily, surrounded by people who truly cared for me and loved me.

What can we learn from this story?

Respect the elderly, and never forget what they’ve done for you. Tyler didn’t appreciate his mother despite all the sacrifices she made for him. He didn’t want to take responsibility for 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 me for years, but he never forgot the kindness I had shown him when he was younger. In the end, he chose to repay that kindness by taking me in and caring for me for the rest of my life.