So, I just put my mother back on the plane, and yeah, back to the same old, same old. Another doctor’s visit, another week of me playing chauffeur, chief cook, and bottle washer. Not that I mind, really. She’s my mom, you know? And someone’s gotta do it. But sometimes I wonder, like, am I the only one who has to deal with this? My sibs, oh man, they’re too busy. Always too busy. My sister, she’s got her big shot job in London, flying first class, probably sipping champagne right now. And my brother, he’s got his tech startup, a new Tesla every year. They send money, sure, sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, depends on if their stocks are up or down, who knows. But it’s always just the money, never the actual... you know. The showing up. The sitting in the waiting room for two hours while they call her name wrong three times. The explaining to the doctor, again, for the tenth time, what meds she’s on, what she *actually* eats, not what she *says* she eats. It’s just... weird, right? I divorced, like, three years ago, finally got the custody schedule ironed out, pretty good actually. My kids are great, love 'em to bits. But every time Mom comes to visit, it’s like my whole life just gets put on pause. I gotta arrange for the kids, gotta rearrange my work schedule, gotta make sure she’s comfortable, everything. And when I call my siblings, it's always, “Oh, so good of you, mijo. You’re such a good son. Keep us posted.” And I do. I keep them posted. Like they actually read the long texts I send, detailing everything. I just feel like, how do they just... do that? Like, just completely detach from the actual *work* of it? I mean, I live like, a thousand miles away from where she grew up, and still it feels like I'm the one closest, the only one who actually talks to her, sees her. Even when I’m calling from here, trying to figure out if she took her pills, or if she’s just forgotten, or if she’s just saying she did to get me off the phone. The guilt on those calls, man, it’s a heavy thing. And then I look at my kids, sleeping now, and I think, is this what they’re gonna do to me? Am I setting some kind of precedent? Like, because I’m the one doing it now, does that mean I’m signing up for this forever? Not that I regret it, not really. She’s my mom. But it’s just this constant hum in the background, this low-level thrum of obligation and... absence. From everyone else. Sometimes I just wanna scream, “HEY! I’M HERE! ALONE!” But then what? Nothing changes. So, anyone else feel like they’re the designated family manager, the one who just... does it, while everyone else just sends thoughts and prayers, or, you know, a check? And then calls you a saint for it? Because honestly, it doesn't feel very saintly. Just tired.