Hi everyone,

I’m writing this with a heavy heart but a hopeful spirit to ask for help for my parents, Leon and Susie Fietek—two people so many of you know and love.

If you’re a friend of any of us daughters, you know them simply as “Mom and Dad.” You’ve probably eaten Mom’s incredible cooking or stayed a night or two in their home, welcomed with open arms and full hearts. And if you’re a friend of theirs, then you already know they’d give the shirt off their back to help someone in need, no matter how little they had themselves.

As many of you know, my mom has been fighting for her life this year. She has been hospitalized three times since June. She spent Father’s Day and their wedding anniversary recovering from being resuscitated and intubated, followed by rehab at Pierz Villa, before finally coming home in July.

Her most recent hospitalization was the hardest yet: she spent 8 days on a ventilator and remained in the hospital from December 10th until after the New Year. We brought Christmas to her, even the tree and presents, and celebrated there. It made us all, especially mom, smile every time someone stopped to admire the tree in her room.

While she is finally home, the fallout from these emergencies has devastated my parents’ finances. It shook all of us. We realized how much we had relied on Mom’s role in our family—but she taught us well, and together we kept things going until she could take back what she could. Still, things aren’t the same, and we’re adjusting to a new normal.

My dad, Leon, is 73 years old. He should be enjoying retirement, but instead he works a demanding full-time job at Polar Tank Trailer just to keep the lights on and food on the table. We’ve always lived paycheck to paycheck, but this medical crisis pushed them past the breaking point.

Dad used every hour of vacation and sick time to be by Mom’s side. Now he’s working with zero safety net.

His days start with caring for Mom—breakfast, coffee, preparing lunch—before heading into a 10‑hour physically demanding shift. Even on weekends, he never truly gets a day off. Living at that pace, without any buffer, puts him at risk of illness from exhaustion and stress. None of us want to see that happen.

During Mom’s 8 days on the ventilator, we couldn’t access their banking to monitor auto-payments. By the time she woke up, the account was overdrawn and fees had piled up.

I quit my job to be Mom’s full-time caregiver so she wouldn’t have to go to a nursing home. They're applying for state assistance, but approval can take 3–6 months. They just need to survive this waiting period.

Since her first extended hospital stay in June, the immediate costs have been overwhelming:

- Urgent Home Equipment: Mom relies on home oxygen for COPD, and her mobility is severely limited. She urgently needs a wheelchair ramp and, most critically, a hospital bed.

- Dietary Needs: Her new heart condition and diabetes require a specialized diet that adds about $100 to every grocery trip.

- Medication Costs: Even with insurance, her essential prescriptions cost nearly a monthly car payment. One medication is so expensive they can only afford to fill 6 days worth of pills at a time.

- Emergency Debt: They had to take out multiple emergency loans to survive the weeks Dad missed work with no pay.

We’re hoping to raise enough to bridge the gap until my caregiver pay begins and Dad can rebuild some time off. Every dollar will go directly toward:

- Keeping the utilities on

- Paying for Mom’s heart-healthy food and medications

- Purchasing the wheelchair ramp and hospital bed immediately

- Keeping loan payments current so my parents don’t lose everything they’ve worked for

My dad is working harder at 73 than most people do in a lifetime. My whole life, I’ve watched my parents work themselves to the bone to provide for us kids, the grandkids, and every beloved family pet. I just want to take some of that weight off Dad’s shoulders so he can focus on loving his wife, spending time with his grandkids, and maybe—finally—resting on one of his days off.

I can’t get them there alone, but I believe the kindness they’ve poured into the world will come back to them now when they need it most.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, for anything you can give—even if it’s simply sharing this page.

With love,

Mary