After my Mother was released from rehab, I went on a mission to find her somewhere else besides my childhood home, to go to.
Because of her extremely limited mobility, I was told by the Hospital that due to her condition, I would be limited to nursing homes instead of an assisted living facility, a sad and grim outlook.
I dragged all three kids from nursing home to nursing home to scout out the options, one sadder than the next.
On a hope and a prayer I called the assisted living facility down the block from my home.
I explained her situation, and they said with a few improvements, including a bed that didn't require side rails, they would take her.
My prayers had been answered.
She would be around the corner and safe. She wouldn't be with sick and out of it people. She would be with those who just needed some extra help and had their wits about them.
I could finally get a good nights sleep.
She was of course miserable to be around so many "old people" but I was thrilled.
On many occasions she said she wanted to go back home, to which I said that would not be possible. Plus, I was always quick to point out, look at how much more she got to see me and the kids!
After nearly a year of bliss, my world turned upside down.
My Mother called to inform me that she had found someone to move her back to my childhood home.
I knew this would not end well.
I knew she could not properly care for herself, and even if she had an aide, she truly needed 24 hour care, since she had such a high risk of falling.
She would not disclose the name of her so called helper, so I did what any hellbent daughter would do, and played detective until I found out who this woman was.
I called the Director of the facility to ask how in God's name they could release my Mother into the care of a total stranger and better yet, against her only child's will.
The Director informed me, that because her stay there was voluntary, they couldn't stop her, even at my request. Even though the Director agreed with me about her discharge.
I then proceeded to get the intel on the woman who was going to move her, and even secured her phone number.
My next phone call was to the woman.
I started crying hysterically, explaining that if she were to help my Mother move back it would inevitably end in her death. I explicitly told her nothing good would come of this move, and that I had my Mom's best interest at heart by having her stay where she was, and to please not undo everything I had worked so hard to have her gain.
Not only did the woman not back down to help my Mom move out, she audaciously gave me the name of a lawyer to use, to fight what was about to happen.
As I sit here now, I am still baffled as to how a stranger can receive a phone call from a person asking them, no begging them, pleading with them, not to help their only living parent, and go ahead and do it anyways.
So after running immediately to the Court to try and gain temporary guardianship, she had already moved my Mom back to Jersey.
I'm in New York, as was she at the time.
Different states, different laws.
It was done.
There was nothing I could do now except wait for a phone call with terrible news.
That phone call ended up being made by me.
I called the police to do a wellness check since I hadn't heard from her in over 24hours.
We talked everyday, sometimes even multiple times.
To not hear from her, a very bad, tell tale sign.
The police found her on the floor where she had been for almost 2 days.
She was immediately admitted to the hospital. That was this past February. She was moved to the rehab facility in March, where she would eventually contract Covid in April, and die a week later, with at least 36 other residents in that Park Ridge rehab.
I didn't know exactly how it would end, but I knew going back to her house would be it, and I was right.
She wasn't even there for a year.
I don't say this often, but I hate that woman.
Deidre.
I hate you.
Despise you.
Loathe you.
I hope karma finds you.
I know it will.
Xoxo,
C.
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