May joy and comfort find you.

perhaps they would be sympathetic.

I would think the grandkids would at least have some empathy.

Sorry to hear this.

bottom line it was my responsibility to take care of my mother.

if it's close, I can help a bit.

I'm in Western Florida. Good luck with the move.

want a road trip

heck, it might snow there and I don't know how to drive in that any longer, or shorter for that matter.

I have a friend who has your exact family dynamic, and it sucks.

They let her down, time and again.

One brother was helpful, when asked. The other was worthless.

who comes over on Fridays to do Mom's laundry, & straightens out her room & bathroom. He does this, gets dinner and maybe 2-3 vicodins.

Geez!

My worthless brother, Rick, who was absolutely no help the first time my mother had cancer, was actually living with her when it came back. He took her to the ER and they found it had spread to her bones. When she came home, he had moved out to live with his girlfriend. They quickly got married and didn't invite any of us to the wedding; not even his 7 year old daughter from his first marriage.

When she was terminal and bed ridden, he visted her once, but only to tell her that all his problems in life were because she hadn't raised us in a Christian home. He abused drugs and alcohol for over 20 years, but got religious and cleaned up his act. Of course, being raised as freethinkers hadn't driven me or my other brother to be addicts, but yeah, whatever.

When she was in the hospice, within days of dying, good bro, Bruce, called him to let him know that if he wanted to see her before she died, he needed to come NOW. Friday goes by, no Rick. Bruce calls. Rick says he and his wife were sick and would come on Saturday. Saturday comes and still no Rick. Bruce calls him again. Rick says they will come on Sunday, after church. Of course, she died in the wee hours Sunday morning.

back in 2008 I broke my hip. After 3 weeks in the hospital & rehab I came home. I got my prescriptions filled one was for 120 vicodin, 4 a day as needed for pain. I kept them on my bathroom sink.

My brother comes over about 3 days after I came home. He left, I went in the bathroom to get a vicodin, I pick up the bottle I count them I only have 40, I should have about 112. My mom and him try to blame it on the maintenance guys (I live in a condo), however no maintenance men had been in the apt. They then try to tell me that I had miscounted. Try going 27 days, in extreme pain with only 40 vicodin.

Other times I have been missing 20-30 at a time, even though I think I've hidden it in a good place. He has taken 60 from my mom's bottle. He's a fucking thief and addict.

He asks now & mom gives him 2 or 3.