My 81 Year Old Mother Replaced Her Caregiver With A Tattooed Biker And The Reason Broke Me

ran down to his chest, thick and graying. Tattoos crawled up his neck and across both of his enormous hands. In one of those massive, decorated hands, he held a spoon of chicken soup, gently angled toward my mother’s lips.

And my mother. My bedridden, fragile, exhausted mother was looking at him like he was the most important person in the world.

“Mom?continue reading …