It dawned on me that Tyler’s decision to send me to a nursing home wasn’t about my well-being but about taking over the house. My heart ached as I realized that the son I had raised had grown into a selfish man. I wondered where I had gone wrong.
Without giving me much of a choice, Tyler and Macy moved me into a nearby nursing home, promising that they would visit often. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll come by as much as we can,” Tyler assured me. I clung to that hope, thinking that maybe the nursing home wouldn’t be so bad if I still had regular visits from my family. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, no one came to visit me.
Every day felt like an eternity. The nurses were kind, and the other residents were pleasant enough, but I longed for the comfort of family. Without access to a phone or tablet, I resorted to writing letters to Tyler daily, telling him how much I missed him and asking him to visit. But not once did I receive a reply, and Tyler never visited. After two years, I lost hope. Every night, I prayed to be taken home, but eventually, I stopped hoping altogether.
One day, however, something unexpected happened. My nurse told me that a man in his forties was at the counter asking for me. My heart leaped—could it finally be Tyler? I quickly got my walker and made my way to the front, a big smile on my face. But when I arrived, it wasn’t Tyler. It was Ron, a man I hadn’t seen in ages.
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