I was the only one looking after my mom, Joyce. At 79, she was still spirited, but after her fall, everything changed. She could barely walk on her own, and I was terrified to leave her alone while I worked. So, I made the hardest decision of my life—I placed her in a nursing home.
But I never left her side. Every weekend, I came with fresh muffins, painted her nails, and brought cozy photos to brighten up her room. She looked forward to our visits. So did I.
Then, last Saturday, I walked in with her favorite banana bread and a new cardigan—and the receptionist blinked like I was a stranger.
“Mrs. Joyce? She’s not here anymore. She was discharged last week.” Read more below
