I Sacrificed 25 Years for My Family and All I Got Was a Spatula

My siblings stood off to the side, quietly breathing sighs of relief.

At dinner, Pat held a bowl and spooned food into Mom's mouth.

Mom watched her, her tone casual, as if she were asking about the weather.

"Pat, the demolition compensation came through. Take two hundred thousand and buy me a place in town."

"Somewhere close to the hospital, so your big sister can take care of me."

Pat froze. She glanced at me, then lowered her head. "Okay."

Mom swallowed a mouthful of rice and kept going.

"From now on, you'll give me ten thousand a month."

"The doctor said if I stick with physical therapy, I might be able to walk again."

Pat's brow furrowed. She looked up at Sylvester and Val across the table, both of them shoveling food into their mouths without a care in the world.

"How long would the therapy take?" she asked quietly.

"I've been paralyzed for six years. Could be six or seven more years at best. Maybe ten before there's any real improvement."

Pat set her bowl and chopsticks down hard.

"Mom, I don't want the demolition money. Keep it yourself."

Mom glared at her. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm too much trouble?"

Pat's face turned beet red, but she couldn't get a single word out.

I had no appetite. I set down my chopsticks, my voice steady.

"Mom, the compensation's been paid out. Have them hire a caretaker for you."

"I'm leaving. I can't take care of you anymore."

Mom went rigid.

"Leaving? Where?"

"The city. I'm going to find work."

"What the hell has gotten into you, Priscilla!"

Her voice shot up, shrill and panicked. "If you leave, what happens to me?"

Her eyes swept the room. "They got their share of the money. They won't just abandon you."

At that, Sylvester and Val finally lifted their heads, staring at me in stunned disbelief.

Mom's eyes reddened, her voice cracking. "Over a little bit of money, you're going to throw a tantrum and abandon your own mother?"

I looked at her.

"Mom, I've taken care of you for twenty-five years. I've taken care of this family for twenty-five years."

"I'm tired. I can't do it anymore."

Before she could respond, I stood and walked into the bedroom to pack.

When I came out with my suitcase, they were all standing by the door.

Every one of them staring at me like I was a criminal.

Sylvester rushed forward and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

"You can't leave!"

I looked him dead in the eye. "Why not?"

His gaze darted sideways. "You have to take care of Mom. She—"

I cut him off.

"Is she only my mother?"

"I've taken care of her for twenty-five years. Isn't it your turn?"

His brow knotted. "I've got a wife and kids to support. How am I supposed to take care of Mom?"

"Then bring her to your place. Let your wife and kids help."

"Are you out of your mind? Mom can't even take care of herself. Bringing her over would turn my whole house upside down!"

I laughed.

"Mom's been paralyzed for six years. I've waited on her for six years. Since Dad died, I've looked after her for twenty-five years."

"I'm not her only child. She has four of us, doesn't she?"

"But you're the oldest! Taking care of Mom is your responsibility!"

"Besides, Mom's used to having you around—"

Something seized in my chest. My breath caught.

"Sylvester! I'm the oldest, but I'm only one year older than you!"

"There is nothing on this earth I'm obligated to do. I have given everything I have!"

"You're just mad Mom didn't give you any money, so you're picking a fight!"

"Mom's the one who split it up. You can't just drop everything and dump your anger on us because you didn't get a cut!"

I turned and glanced at Mom. Her face had gone white as ash.

"Sylvester, let me ask you something."

"What?"

"Mom's been paralyzed for seven years now. You were already married when it happened. In all that time, have you ever given her a single dollar? Have you taken care of her for even one day?"

He went quiet.

I said:

"No. You haven't given her a cent. And ever since she became paralyzed, your wife and kids haven't even visited once."

"In seven years, I can count on one hand the number of times you've come to see her. And every time, all you brought was a bunch of bananas."

"You just got four hundred thousand dollars. You can hire a proper caregiver for her instead of dumping her on me like it's my obligation."

Sylvester's lips moved, but nothing came out.

Mom pounded the armrest of the couch, her voice choked with tears.

"Let her go! Let her go!"

"Let's see if she's really heartless enough to let her own mother die alone in this house!"

I had two notebooks in my bag. I pulled one out and handed it to Sylvester.

"Everything you need to know about taking care of Mom is written in here."

Then I turned to look at her.

"Mom, it's not that I don't want to take care of you. I'm just tired. I need a break too."

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out.

I rented a tiny room in the city. Five hundred a month.

On the third day, Val called. His tone was sharp.

"Priscilla, Mom's in the ER because of you! They're trying to save her right now. Get your ass back here!"