“I printed a sample care plan based on your mom’s discharge notes,” she said. “We can adjust it together.”
Mom perked up. “Oh, she’s organized,” she whispered to me later.
“I like her.”
Alyssa asked smart questions, listened to Mom’s opinions, didn’t talk over her, and didn’t treat her like a toddler. Her references were glowing. She lived fifteen minutes away and was working on a nursing degree.
It felt like an answer to prayer.
We hired her for weekdays and a short Sunday shift.
The first few weeks, Alyssa was perfect.
She cooked actual meals instead of Mom’s “toast and cheese” dinners. She made sure Mom took her meds. She got her through her PT exercises without making her feel pathetic.
The neighbors loved her. She even dusted the tops of Mom’s picture frames, which I’m pretty sure hadn’t been dusted since Clinton was president.
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