Dear friends, let me tell you about my daughter, Anne, who has seemingly lost her mind. She thinks just because I’m 90, I should be shipped off to some nursing home like an old piece of furniture. I ain’t ready for no home; I still got plenty of life left in me.
So, I told her straight up, “If you don’t want to take care of me, I’ll take care of myself. I’ve got my savings, and I’ll use them to hire a caregiver and stay right here in my own house.”
Well, that made her madder than a wet hen! Turns out she was banking on getting her hands on my money. Now she’s throwing a fit because her little plan ain’t gonna work. To her, I’m just an old thing that can provide money that she ‘urgently’ needs.
It has been more than a month since she last visited or called. And she made sure to tell me not to bother her until I am ready to take my a** to a nursing home. Imagine being 90 and having just one daughter. All I was thinking these days was how God never gave me a son, or another daughter. Someone who would give some love to me.
