My Son Put Me in a Nursing Home—Years Later, He Came Looking for Me… But I Wasn’t There
The day I walked into the living room and saw Henry standing there—rigid, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes fixed on the floor—I knew something was wrong. A mother always knows. “A nursing home?” I asked, stunned, my voice breaking. “Henry, I don’t need that kind of help. I’m managing fine on my own.” He…