Lilly was twenty years old when she was called to a family meeting regarding a troubling matter.
Her grandmother, eighty-year-old Margaret, had suffered a massive stroke. Her mother hadn't said much else over the phone, only pleading for Lilly to come home as quickly as possible. Lilly replied immediately that she could be at her parents' house in ninety minutes. Her brother, Mark, promised to be there around the same time, so the family council convened quickly. By the time Lilly arrived, Mark was already there, and her mother, Susan, was sitting by the phone, waiting for a call from the hospital where Margaret had been taken.
"How is Grandma?" Lilly asked the moment she stepped through the door.
"The hospital hasn't called yet," Susan replied with a sigh. "I'm just sitting here, waiting..."
"What are we going to do?" Lilly asked, feeling lost.
On her way over, she had assumed they would need to find a specialist, look for insurance documents, or at least pack a bag for her grandmother. It turned out none of that was necessary. Why the urgent meeting, then?
"Lil, here's the thing," her father, Robert, began to explain. "The paramedics told us that Margaret might not make it through the night. We just need to be prepared."
"Good God, Dad! Don't talk like that!" Lilly cried.
"Grandma is eighty, after all..." Mark added thoughtfully.
Lilly stared at her brother in shock. At Robert's words, only Susan had let out a sob. She understood the reality, too, but was trying to keep the dark thoughts at bay.
"Do either of you have even a shred of sympathy?" Lilly snapped.
Mark was about to snap back at his sister when the phone rang. Susan flinched at the first ring, then lunged for the receiver.
"Hello? Yes, that's right... Oh, thank God..." She let out a sigh of relief, a small smile appearing on her lips.
Grandma made it, Lilly realized.
But then Susan's expression shifted; she tensed up and sat up straight. "Wait, I don't understand. When will we know for sure? Right, I see. Thank you for the update. Goodbye."
"Well?" Lilly asked, holding her breath.
"There are two pieces of news. First, the crisis has passed. She's in the ICU, but the doctors think she's out of the woods. That's the good news." Susan hesitated, biting her lip.
"And the bad news?" her daughter prompted.
"Yes. Her left arm and leg are completely paralyzed. The doctors don't know if physical therapy will help. We won't know for sure for about a month."
"Oh, no," Lilly whispered, pressing her hands to her mouth.
She felt terrible for her grandmother. If she couldn't walk, she wouldn't be able to stand it; she wouldn't tolerate having constant caregivers in her house. Margaret wasn't the kind of person who would easily accept wearing adult diapers.
"That's not all," Susan said grimly. "The brain damage was significant. The neurologist is looking at a diagnosis of encephalopathy. They told me it could cause major personality changes."
"Meaning what?" Mark asked, but Lilly knew exactly what it meant. She was in nursing school and was well aware of the condition.
"She might become moody, argumentative, or even aggressive," Susan said with a vague shrug. "And from what I understand, that diagnosis is firm. While the paralysis is still a 'maybe,' the cognitive change is a 'definitely.'"
The whole family fell silent, heads bowed. Lilly didn't want to believe such a nightmare could happen to her grandmother. Robert was trying to think of a way through the crisis, while scrawny Mark was already calculating how to dodge any caregiving duties.
Mark was thirty-two, married, and had a young son. He had no desire to shoulder the burden of caring for a paralyzed grandmother, even though he lived the closest to her.
"Maybe we should find a high-end rehab center?" Lilly suggested tentatively.
"Maybe, but we should look into that a bit later. At least wait until Margaret is out of intensive care," Robert replied. "But either way, someone is going to have to watch over her. Even if things go well and the paralysis fades, she'll need frequent visits. Just in case..."
"Oh, Lord," Susan said, covering her face with her hands. "This is a nightmare. I just can't wrap my head around it."
"Don't give up yet, Mom," Lilly said, putting an arm around her mother's shoulders. "Maybe things will turn out better than they think."
"You're right," her mother sighed. "For now, we just have to wait."
***
Margaret was moved out of the ICU two weeks after the stroke. Naturally, the whole family gathered to visit her—except for Mark, who claimed he couldn't get off work. At least, that was his story.
Lilly didn't much like her brother; she found him selfish and weak-willed, someone you couldn't rely on when things got tough. So, she wasn't particularly upset when he texted saying he couldn't make it but would stop by later.
Susan, Robert, and Lilly met at the nurse's station to find out Margaret's room number. Lilly couldn't hold back her tears when she walked in. She had never seen her vibrant, cheerful grandmother so emotionally diminished.
Margaret lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She didn't even react immediately when they entered. Susan was horrified; she wasn't used to seeing her mother like this either. Only Robert tried to act as if everything were normal to avoid upsetting Margaret further. He said a loud hello, smiled, and walked over to the bedside. Susan and Lilly collected themselves and followed.
"Hi, Mom," Susan tried to smile, while Lilly let out an audible sob.
Just a month ago, they had been making pancakes and baking pies together, and now she was lying there, motionless. "How are you feeling?"
"Well... terrible, awful, hopeless," Margaret replied calmly.
"Grandma, come on... is it really that bad?" Lilly asked, even though she knew perfectly well it couldn't be worse.
"Oh, Lilly," Margaret sighed, leaving the thought unfinished.
"We bought you some vitamins," Robert said, clearing his throat. "So you can get back to racing us down the street."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible in my state," the woman said with a weak smile.
"How's your arm, Mom?" Susan asked.
"I can move it, but I can't lift a cup. Same with my legs. I can stand, but I can't walk without a cane," Margaret replied sadly. "And my head... it's like there's a constant fog. I can't even explain it."
"At least the arm and leg are working a little," Susan sighed.
They talked for a bit longer until Margaret began to stumble over her words and said she was tired. Taking the hint, the family left the room, promising to return the next day.
Of course, Margaret was in no mood for company. It made sense. She had been living a normal life, and then suddenly she fell—barely finding the strength after waking up from her faint to crawl to the phone and call her daughter. After mumbling something unintelligible into the receiver, Margaret had lost consciousness again. Susan had called 911 immediately and rushed to her mother's side. What would have happened if she hadn't been able to make that call? The thoughts were agonizing. Margaret simply didn't want to live like this. She felt like a burden to her family.
Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, and she didn't even try to wipe them away. Why bother? It wasn't as if she was needed anymore, or as if she had to pretend everything was fine. Her legs wouldn't hold her; she could barely stand, let alone walk on her own. Fine, Mark could bring groceries, but who would cook? Strangers? And what about the fact that she couldn't even bathe or use the bathroom by herself? A sense of profound despair washed over her.
***
Time passed, and it was eventually time for Margaret to be discharged. There had been no significant improvement, despite hiring a private therapist. The therapist had designed a long-term program, but Margaret didn't see much point in it. She had lost her faith in recovery.
A couple of days before the discharge, the family met again to discuss the plan.
"Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush. Someone needs to take care of Grandma," Susan said immediately. She seemed to have made peace with her mother's condition over the past month.
"Aren't we going to hire a nurse?" Mark asked instantly.
"Do you have the money for that?" Susan looked at him pointedly.
"Mom, where would I get it? I have my own family to support," he said.
"Well, we don't have the money for a professional live-in caregiver either," Robert added, backing up his wife. "We helped you with your car, don't forget."
"Is that really all the savings you have?" Mark huffed.
Robert was about to give his son a piece of his mind when Lilly intervened.
"Stop it, don't fight. I'll take care of Grandma," she said decisively. Susan breathed a sigh of relief.
Susan herself couldn't do it properly; she and Robert lived out in the suburbs, and commuting every day wouldn't work.
"I'm glad you volunteered, Lil. Grandma was planning to leave the house to me, but I'll make sure to sign it over to you as a gift later."
"Mom, I'm doing this because I want to help her, not because I want the house!" Lilly replied indignantly.
"I know, I know. But we live in tough times," her mother said, cooling her down. "Besides, I'm sure it won't be easy. You should have some kind of compensation."
"I don't want to talk about this," Lilly cut her off. "It sounds like you're already writing her off."
"I'm just trying to be realistic," Susan sighed.
***
The whole family was there to welcome Margaret home. As soon as she arrived, she asked to be taken to her bed and for the door to be closed. Lilly decided to move in with her; she figured she would stay until Margaret got better, then return to her dorm. At first, the old woman was happy to have her granddaughter there, but then she remembered: Lilly wasn't there to taste-test her pies; she was there to help her shower, change, and handle the indignities of her condition.
Margaret's spirit sank, and she turned to the wall to cry silently into her pillow. Lilly saw how hard it was for her. She tried her best to be supportive, but it seemed the more she did for Margaret, the worse Margaret treated her.
Before long, nothing was right: the food was wrong, the oatmeal was tasteless, the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too cold, the air was too stuffy...
Meanwhile, Lilly had taken a night-shift job at a private clinic. The pay was decent, but the work was grueling. It was a detox facility, and the patients ranged from harmless drunks to men in the throes of violent withdrawals. Lilly was exhausted between work, her studies, and caring for her grandmother, who had become completely despondent. Margaret eventually refused to do her physical therapy exercises. The encephalopathy progressed into chronic vascular dementia. She became tearful, capricious, and sometimes even bitter and aggressive. Several years passed this way.
Susan and Robert rarely visited. Mark only stopped by for a couple of holidays before "running out of time" to check on her. Naturally, Margaret was hurt, which only fueled her outbursts. And it was always Lilly who bore the brunt of it.
Lilly was twenty-six when she finally realized she could afford to rent her own place and hire a professional caregiver for her grandmother. Her parents flatly refused to help financially. They claimed Mark was constantly asking for loans, they needed to buy gifts for his growing son, help with Mark's vacations, and take vacations themselves. Through all this, Lilly had never gone anywhere; her entire life revolved around her grandmother, even though caring for a demanding elderly woman wasn't exactly how a woman in her twenties wanted to spend her prime. Still, she endured Margaret's verbal abuse, knowing the woman couldn't control herself. Lilly didn't blame her. But after six years, she was simply exhausted.
During those years, Margaret's health declined further. She was bedridden, required diapers, and needed to be bathed several times a week. She became almost indifferent to her surroundings, yet she still complained to Lilly about Lilly herself, while seemingly forgetting her other relatives even existed. Lilly stopped counting on her parents or brother. She realized that even to her own mother, a new coat or a trip to Greece was more important than the fate of a paralyzed parent. It hurt; she didn't understand what had gone wrong with their "happy" family. Why had everyone abandoned her?
But it was time to move out. At first, Lilly stayed to supervise the new caregiver, and once she saw that things were under control, she moved into her own apartment. She still visited every day, but she didn't always find Margaret in a good mood or even fully lucid. More often than not, Margaret was sleeping or muttering aimlessly. A psychiatrist said it was the typical progression of her condition. Since she wasn't a danger to herself and had a caregiver, the doctor simply prescribed medication and suggested hiring a second person for the night shift. Lilly shared the news with the family, but—as expected—there was no money. Mark even hinted that Grandma was Lilly's "problem" now, since she was the one getting the house. Lilly cut off all contact with him that day. Another year went by.
***
Lilly continued to visit regularly, talking to Margaret and telling her about her life. The psychiatric meds helped clear the "fog" occasionally, so Margaret had more lucid moments. One evening, Lilly was telling her about a new girl at work.
"Can you believe it, Grandma? She couldn't even start an IV," Lilly chuckled. "The guy's veins were like garden hoses. Even an intern could have done it! And she wanted to be promoted to the procedure room."
"Oh, Lilly, you work so hard," Margaret said, patting her granddaughter's arm with her one functional hand.
"It pays the bills," the girl smiled. "How are you doing today?"
"Fine, as fine as one can be in this state," the old woman sighed heavily. "Lilly, I'm so sorry for everything I've said to you. I wasn't myself. I know there's no excuse... you were the only one who looked after me, and I... I treated you like that." Tears welled in Margaret's eyes. Lilly gently squeezed her hand.
"It's okay, Grandma. I understand, truly. I'm not angry with you."
"Really?" Margaret asked like a child.
Lilly nodded.
"Well, then. I wanted to ask you for a favor."
"Of course. Anything."
"I need you to bring a notary here sometime."
"What for?"
"I want to sign the house over to you."
"Oh, Grandma..." Lilly hated talking about this. It made her feel mercenary.
"No, listen to me. I don't care what your mother told you. Your mother dumped all the problems of a paralyzed old woman on you and didn't lift a finger. I don't want to leave this house to a daughter like that. But you, Lilly—you're hard-working, responsible, honest, and kind. I want to help you, even if it's after I'm gone."
"Grandma, don't talk like that! Stop it..."
"No, dear. I can feel it," Margaret smiled peacefully. "We old folks are okay with death. Besides, I'm nearly ninety. I've lived a long, happy life, and my greatest luck was you." She patted Lilly's hand again. "My only regret is that you spent your youth on me, taking care of a frail old woman instead of having a life of your own."
"Stop it. First of all, I have plenty of time, and so do you. And second, I don't regret my decision for a second."
"You're a good girl," Margaret continued to smile. "But please, do this for me. Before they decide I'm not 'of sound mind' anymore."
"No one is going to do that, Grandma. You're upsetting me," Lilly said sadly.
"Fine, fine. But it's stuck in my head! I won't be able to rest until it's done," the old woman chuckled. "Will you do it?"
"Okay, I will," Lilly sighed, managed a smile.
A few hours later, Lilly said goodbye and headed home. On the way, Mark called. She didn't want to pick up; the sting of his words about Margaret still burned. But he called again, and family obligation won out.
"What do you want?" Lilly asked bluntly.
"Hello to you too, sis," Mark said sarcastically.
"If you're going to play games, I'm hanging up."
"Wait, wait. Lilly, I'm calling about something specific."
"I figured it wasn't to wish me a happy Sunday." Lilly liked his tone less and less. He was definitely about to ask for something.
"Can I crash at your place tonight?" Mark asked without preamble.
"What?" Lilly's eyes widened.
"I'll explain later. Just tell me: yes or no?"
"I... I don't know. Why aren't you at home?"
"I said I'd explain later."
"What about Mom and Dad?"
"They're on vacation in Italy. I already tried calling them."
"Fine, whatever. Come over, you know the address," Lilly agreed, still not understanding what could have happened to her brother's "perfect" marriage.
***
Mark thanked her and hung up. When Lilly pulled up to her apartment, her brother was already waiting in his car. She greeted him coldly and led him inside. Mark looked around the apartment with what Lilly perceived as a hint of disgust, but he seemingly decided that this modest setting would have to do. What did he expect? A palace? Sorry, your highness.
"So, what happened?" Lilly asked, pouring hot tea.
Mark was furiously texting someone. "Well, that's officially it," he sighed. "I fell in love, Lil. Do you get it?"
"No, I don't," she replied honestly. "With your wife?"
"That's the problem. No." He looked at her significantly.
"Oh, boy..." Lilly whispered.
"Yeah. She found the texts today. And the photos... even some videos," Mark admitted.
"Good God, even videos?" Lilly winced. The thought of her brother's infidelity was nauseating.
"Yeah, that's how people in love live, imagine that," Mark snapped. Lilly shot him a glare. She hadn't even had time for a boyfriend, let alone a family. "Okay, sorry. I didn't mean to hit a sore spot."
"Sure you didn't."
"Seriously, I'm sorry. Anyway, Sarah wants a divorce. She kicked me out. The house is in her name, anyway."
"Wow," Lilly whistled.
"Don't worry, I'll be looking at rentals tomorrow. I won't stay long," he said, pausing for a moment. "How's Grandma?"
"Fine, I guess... She was a bit strange today, though." Lilly stopped. She suddenly realized where Mark—who hadn't visited in ages—was going with this. "Why are you asking all of a sudden?"
"Well, she's my grandmother too."
"Right! And where was that sentiment for the last seven years?" Lilly flared up. "It's obvious you're planning to move into her house!"
"But you said yourself you didn't want the house," Mark argued, not even bothering to deny it.
"Listen to me. You stay here tonight, and tomorrow you go wherever you want. Sleep at the bus station for all I care. but you are not going to Grandma's. You don't deserve to even step foot in there. Don't even try to argue with me!" Lilly cut him off. "Goodnight."
***
At 5:00 AM, Lilly was jolted awake by her phone. Squinting, she looked at the number. it was Margaret's night caregiver. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Hello?" Lilly answered.
"Lilly, I'm so sorry to wake you, but..." The caregiver sobbed. "I went in to check on Margaret... and I didn't hear her breathing. I checked for a pulse, and there's nothing. I've already called 911, the police, and the funeral home, but you need to come."
Lilly's mind went blank. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. No, not this! She had just seen her a few hours ago! She was doing well—better than usual! Even better...
That was it. That was what had been "strange" about her behavior. Before death, many people experience a final "rally"—a moment of clarity. Lilly didn't even notice her phone getting wet with tears or the sobbing sounds she was making. She sat there in shock.
"Lilly?..." The caregiver sounded devastated too; she had grown fond of the old woman.
"I'm coming," Lilly croaked. She hung up and, after a few seconds of oppressive silence, let out a scream of despair that turned into hysterical sobbing.
Mark came running in, bleary-eyed. Lilly managed to explain what happened while splashing ice-cold water on her face to try to calm down. She dressed quickly and ran down to the car. Mark went with her. Despite his negligence, he had loved her in his own way, and he was in shock too. He took the wheel since Lilly couldn't possibly focus on the road. Tears blurred her vision. Grandma had known she was dying. Why hadn't Lilly realized it? She blamed herself for being so unobservant. If only she had listened closer, maybe she would still be alive.
By the time they arrived, the paramedics had already pronounced her dead, and the funeral home and police were there. Lilly didn't quite understand why the police were necessary, but she answered their questions and handed over documents in a daze. When she caught a glimpse of Margaret in the bedroom, she felt faint. Despite everything, Margaret's face was peaceful; she almost looked like she was smiling, having finally found rest.
Lilly's legs gave out, and she grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling. Mark led her to the sofa and handled the rest of the arrangements. Lilly took the loss the hardest. She cried for days, blaming herself, and no one could comfort her.
***
About a week after the funeral, which Lilly organized, her parents returned from their vacation. They were shocked, of course, but hadn't come home any sooner. Lilly found herself hating her family; she had only truly loved her grandmother, and now she was gone. Her mother and father looked sad and wore black, but they seemed almost too calm as they began settling Margaret's affairs. Lilly couldn't wrap her head around it. Maybe they were just being "adults," realizing the responsibility was now theirs. There was paperwork to do: medical records, the will, and the life insurance policy Susan had taken out.
A few months later, as the time to settle the estate approached, Susan called Lilly. Mark had been living in Margaret's house this whole time; his divorce was final, and he had nowhere else to go.
"Hi, Lilly. Are you awake? Not sleeping after a shift?" Susan asked.
"No, it's my day off."
"Good. Listen, I want to talk to you about Grandma's house."
"What about it?"
"Well, you're doing pretty well for yourself, you have a good job. But Mark is going through a really tough time. Where is a man in his late thirties supposed to get the money for a house? I think I'm going to sign it over to him instead of you. You'll be able to get a mortgage and buy your own place soon anyway."
Lilly sat in stunned silence. The house again. Was everyone in this city obsessed with real estate? She wouldn't have minded giving it up if Margaret hadn't been so explicit about it—if Mark had helped even once, paid for a single nurse, or even just called to check in. But Mark had been too busy with his "love life," leaving Lilly with no time for a life of her own. A swarm of angry thoughts buzzed in her head, and she finally realized just how "tough" the times really were.
She gave a tired smile. She didn't want to fight over 500 square feet on the edge of the city, but she had to say her piece.
"You know, Mom, do whatever you want. But just so you know, Grandma asked me to bring a notary the night she died. She wanted to leave the house to me because she said she didn't want to leave anything to a daughter who didn't lift a finger for her. And Mark did even less than you. I remember him telling me that Grandma was my 'problem.' My problem, Mom. And I took care of her anyway, and I loved her. I gave up my life for her. While Mark was off playing house with two different women, I was scrubbing oatmeal off the walls and changing Grandma's diapers. I don't expect any gratitude from you. Take the house. I'm just disgusted that you're all such parasites, waiting for her to die so you can get her property. I'm disgusted that the grandson she didn't even like will be living there. I don't want anything to do with any of you anymore. Don't call me, and don't expect me at holidays. But just keep one thing in mind, Mom: you and Dad aren't getting any younger. And when your turn comes... I can only imagine how Mark will treat you."
Lilly hung up. Her mother never called back. Whether she was offended or whether Lilly had simply hit the nail on the head—who knows?
0 comments