With a Broken Heart, I Ask for Help

I am still in complete and utter shock that my beautiful, beloved mother, Sandra Rusin, is gone.

On January 13, 2026—my son’s 21st birthday—my world forever changed. Just one week after entering hospice care, my mom passed away. It all happened so quickly, and I am still struggling to comprehend how everything unraveled in such a short period of time.

On December 5, 2025, my mother was admitted to a skilled nursing facility for rehabilitation. The goal was simple and hopeful: to help her regain enough strength so I could bring her back home, where I had lovingly cared for her for years. Tragically, once there, she took an unexpected and devastating turn for the worse.

For the past six years, I was my mother’s sole caregiver. For the last four of those years, she lived with me and her grandsons. She wasn’t just part of my life—she was my life.

In July of 2019, as my stepfather lay on his deathbed, I made a promise to both him and my mother: that I would take care of her and never place her in a nursing home. Those who know me know that I do not break my promises. Shortly after his passing, my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and from that moment on, I honored that promise with everything I had.

When she could no longer live alone, care for herself, or be left unattended, I put my own life on hold to care for hers. She became my full-time responsibility—24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I did so willingly, lovingly, and without regret.

Now, in the wake of her passing, I find myself grieving not only the loss of my mother, but the loss of the life and purpose that revolved around caring for her. I am trying to navigate unimaginable grief while also facing the daunting task of figuring out what the next chapter of my life looks like. I am praying daily that God will guide me forward, and I trust that He will—but right now, the weight is heavy.

With great humility and embarrassment, I find myself in a position I never imagined: needing to ask for help.

I am facing overwhelming financial obligations, including my mother’s funeral expenses, outstanding medical and skilled nursing facility bills, and debts that must be settled to close her estate. Unfortunately, I do not have the adequate means to cover these costs.

When the pandemic hit, life changed rapidly and profoundly. Between the loss of my stepfather, my mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, and her inability to live independently, she became my full-time job. Supporting my mother, my two children, and myself meant relying on investments, retirement accounts, and her Social Security. With a declining economy, rapid inflation, and rising costs of living, those resources were stretched thin.

This is what has led me to this heartbreaking moment—asking for help when I have always been the one giving it.

If you are able to contribute in any way, please know that your support will go directly toward honoring my mother’s life, laying her to rest with dignity, and helping me navigate this incredibly difficult transition. Even if you cannot donate, your prayers, shares, and kind words mean more than I can ever express.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, for holding my family in your hearts, and for honoring the incredible woman my mother was.