I’m The Only One Who Looked After My Mom—So Who Took Her From The Nursing Home Without Telling Me? – Page 7

The worst part? Mom didn’t even realize.
“She took me shopping. We watched movies. We had fun.”

It broke my heart.

Because I thought love meant protecting her.

But maybe, to her, love meant being seen.

She missed the attention—even if it came with a lie.

So I made a decision.

Once I got full guardianship, I didn’t send her back to the nursing home.

I cut back my hours. Turned the guest room into her space. Bought a recliner, a mini fridge, painted it yellow—her favorite color.

She was safe. And more than that—she was home.

A month later, the court awarded me permanent guardianship.

And Marla? Investigated for elder fraud. Turns out she’d convinced another cousin to sign over his pension. He didn’t even remember doing it.

She skipped town. Tried to open a yoga studio in Arizona.

But karma has long arms.

As for Mom and me—we started taking morning walks. We sip chamomile tea from travel mugs and watch birds.

Sometimes she gets confused. Sometimes she holds my hand like she’s afraid I’ll leave.

I never do.

I learned that showing up isn’t enough. You have to be present. You have to let them feel important.

Because even strong love can feel like obligation if it loses its warmth.

So I still paint her nails. I still bring her muffins.

But I also laugh at the same stories. I stopped rushing the moments.

Because one day, they’ll be gone.