My Sisters Left Me to Care For My Sick Mom Alone

This story is based on an interview with the editors of The Doe.

I grew up in a little town in Alberta, Canada. We were the average middle-class family. My dad was an over-the-road truck driver, so he wasn’t home a whole lot. But life was good—my mom stayed at home and she took care of the house perfectly.

My twin sisters were born five years after me, in 1969. They were spoiled all their lives. They were the babies, so they were my mom's favorite. I got along with my sisters when we were growing up. They were the average teenagers, bright and cheerful, always into school athletics like cheerleading and softball. I was more laid-back and not really into sports. I loved camping.

When they left home, they moved over to the east side of Canada. They never came around or checked on my mom or dad. I stayed in my hometown and married eventually. My dad died in the late eighties, so it was mostly me just checking on my mom, calling her on the phone and going to dinner with her.

Then she got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It gradually got worse through the years. She was forgetting things, she couldn’t drive anymore, you had to watch her a lot more. It got to where she would be somewhere and she wouldn’t know how she got there. So I had to start paying very close attention to her, and then eventually I told her it was safer for her to just stay with us. So she moved in with me and my husband in the early nineties.

When she first moved in with us, she had her own money. She got life insurance from my dad. Initially it wasn’t a financial burden because we owned our house, we had no major bills. But later there were more doctors, more care, more nurses. It turned into more or less a 24/7 job. Eventually my husband and I separated, so it was just me and the nurses. I was semi-retired, so it was literally my job to take care of her. I had been a hospice nurse, a professional caregiver.

When she needed their help or even just their love, they weren't there for her. 

During all this, the twins were no help at all. They were concerned about their careers—one was in advertising and the other was in some kind of business handling law firms. They had no idea what to do. Since I’d been a hospice nurse and I was still close to Mom, they felt I was more capable of handling what was going on. I would tell them that mom would ask about them sometimes, on her good days. After she had a stroke, she had very, very few good days. Then I would tell my sisters, “She's not going to be around forever—you should come spend what time you can when she’s here.” 

But they would say they couldn't leave their jobs, they were busy, and they just kept putting it off. I feel like them spending time with her would have helped her a whole lot during her downfall. At first they wanted me to keep them informed, but then it got to the point where they were no support whatsoever. It was like they didn't care. My mom had done so much for them; they were her favorites. Yet in return, when she needed their help or support or even just their love, they weren't there for her. 

That really just got to me. I did not understand how people could be so cold and self-centered. It destroyed my love for them. After a while it was just like, “Okay fine, just stay away.”

Eventually when things got even worse, when it was more than I could handle and still say sane, I had to put her in an assisted living home. I checked in on her every day or every other day, making sure she was okay. I think she really enjoyed it there, because there were more people around. She got more attention there. 

But then she had a fall. When they called me, they’d already transported her to a hospital, and she had broken her wrist and punctured her lungs. They were keeping her sedated. At that point I called my sisters to give them an update. One was on vacation, neither one could come, not even to visit. They thought I was taking Mom’s money; that’s all they seemed concerned about. 

Meanwhile, she had developed pneumonia and was just trapped in her body as a vegetable. So we decided to take away her means of life support, because she never wanted to be on a machine to keep her alive.

After she died, the twins were all about Mom’s things and what would happen to the house. They just wanted to sell everything and get their money. So I went to a lawyer's office, and I had the papers drawn up, and I gave them their part of the money. 

That was more than 20 years ago, and I haven’t spoken to them since. I figure it’s best that way. They know what they’ve done, so I figured, well, if they can live with what they did, I can too. I didn’t want to fight about it, I just didn’t want to have any contact with them. 

This year, I was sitting around on my mom’s birthday and I thought, Life is precious. My mom is my world. I just don't understand how, being raised in the same family, the twins looked at things totally different than I did. I don't know if it was because I was older or they were spoiled, but I would think that if your mom gave you everything throughout life, if she was so good to you and so attentive, attending ball games and cheerleading, that you would be more concerned with her life in the end. But I guess some people are different. My sisters would say to me, “Mom always encouraged us to go after our dreams, be driven.” I thought they took that a little bit too far.

I’ve made peace with everything. I don't hate my sisters. I still love my sisters, in my way. But families need to talk about how it is so hard when just one child does the end-of-life care. I would do it again in a heartbeat, spend every moment I could with my mom. But it was hard. It was really hard.