I understood. I really did. Life goes on, and young people have their own lives to lead. Then the great – grandkids started arriving. Now, they’re three little blessings that I barely know.
When my Harold passed away six years ago, that’s when things really changed. For two years, I tried to take care of myself in that big empty house we’d shared for almost fifty years.
But after the second fall, when I lay on the kitchen floor for hours before the neighbor found me, my children decided it was time for the nursing home.
“It’s for the best, Mom,” they all said. “You’ll have people to take care of you.”
What they meant was that they didn’t have time to take care of me themselves.
I’ve been here at this nursing home for four years now. When I first got here, I was scared to death. My room was tiny compared to the house I’d left behind.
Those first few months, I would cry myself to sleep most nights. But slowly, things changed. I met Gladys from down the hall, and she taught me how to play bridge. Then there was Eleanor, who shared my love for murder mysteries, and Dotty, who would sneak in homemade cookies when her daughter visited.
We became a little family of our own. All of us were abandoned in one way or another by the children we’d raised.
My kids and their families? They hardly visited. Less than five times in four years, if you can believe it. Sometimes they’d call on birthdays or holidays, but mostly it was just a card in the mail.
I didn’t mind. That’s just how life is, right? At least that’s what I told myself whenever I saw other residents with visitors while I sat alone.
But the moment my health started declining, everything changed. Suddenly, they were always around, taking care of me, acting like the most caring family ever.
Betty brought flowers. Thomas asked about my medicine. Sarah actually held my hand while the doctor was talking. My grandkids even showed up, but most of them seemed more interested in their phones than in their old grandma.
The reason? My inheritance.
Of course, they were all fighting for a bigger piece of the pie (and to be fair, it is a pretty big pie, y’all). Me and Harold weren’t stupid with our money. We saved when it wasn’t easy, and we invested.
