The four-bed room home my parents rented from a slumlord had a leaky roof for years. Instead of fixing or replacing the roof with a new one, the slumlord just bought a huge brown tarp and told my dad to place it over the roof when it rains. On November 13, 2006 the sky was gloomy and dark, you could smell the rain that was going to soon fall. So my dad and my youngest brother wanted to make sure the tarp on the roof was secured for the next rainfall. They placed an aluminum ladder against the back of the house and my brother Joseph was the first to climb up on the roof. My dad climbed on the ladder after Joseph was on the roof. As my dad placed his footing on the roof and pushed him off the ladder to get on top of the roof the ladder shifted off balance and fell and so did my dad. My dad landed flat on his feet from a ten-foot drop and shattered both his ankles. I had a message on my cell phone at work that afternoon and remember the fear in my mom’s voice when I heard the message.
“Mija, please come home, come home! Your dad fell off the ladder and they are taking him in an ambulance to the hospital. Your brother Joseph went with him in the ambulance to the hospital. Please come home!”
I hung up my cell phone and just trembled and became disorientated for just a moment. I called my supervisor and explained my family emergency and a few minutes later I ran to my car and zoomed home. What’s ironic about this moment, for the life of me I can’t remember how fast I was driving and what direction I took to go home. I just remember getting in my car and the next moment parking in front of my parent’s home.
I ran in and found my mom’s face pale and her whole body trembling as I wrapped my arms around her and she started to cry. I seen my sister Mary walking down the small hallway with her walker and said,
“I’m ready, let’s go,”
“”Okay Mamas, let’s get you guys in the car and head out.”
I carefully directed both my mom and my sister towards my car and ran back to lock up the house. We recited the Rosary on the way to the hospital.
I remember walking into the ER with my mom as the rest of the family waited in the waiting room of the Beverly Hospital. My mom walked to the nurse’s station of the ER while I looked around for my dad. I found him on a gurney in the ER and was in excruciating pain. His paints were in shreds and you could see the swelling and bruising of his injuries on both legs. An IV was already placed but the morphine did not seem to ease any of his pain. As the monitor he was connected to kept beeping keeping track of his vitals, he looked at me as his eyes filled with tears as he said,
“Where is your mother? Don’t let her see me like this; I don’t want her to get nervous. Where is Mary? Who is going to take care of mom and Mary?”
“Dad, don’t worry about that, let’s just see what is going to happen to you, okay?”
“Promise me you will look after them until I get better, I am so worried about them. Who is going to take care of them?”
I couldn’t have been so proud of my dad as I was at that second, even though my dad was in so much pain, he was more concerned about my mom and Mary instead of himself.
It took five months hospitalization and convalescent care, four operations before my dad completely healed and was ready to come back home. When my dad finally came home he was never the same physically, emotionally and mentally.
I knew he couldn't care for my sister and mom like he use to before the fall; he had to learn how to stand and walk again. One year later from the time of his fall, he started to get his confidence to drive.
He was my caregiver to my mom, who was diagnosed with Parkinson seven years ago and for my sister, who was diagnosed with MS thirteen years ago. During this time, I used all my vacation and sick time, took the Family Leave Act to care for all three.
At this time my sister Mary Magdalene was pretty independent even though she was diagnosed with MS on February 14, 1997. She would putter around the house with her candy apple red walker from her bedroom to the living room or to the kitchen but by the afternoon she would be ready for a nap and feeling pretty fatigued. She would need a wheel chair if we need to go doctor appointment, shopping at the mall or grab a bite to eat.
Mary would get physically exhausted easily during the summers. Hot weather would not be kind to her due to MS. During the hot weather, Mary would remain in her bedroom with the air conditioner set on high to keep her room cool. She had a huge selection of DVDs, cable and my mom who would sit with her to keep her company.
My mom and her personal challenges with Parkinson didn’t stop her for caring for Mary since their relationship based on love and trust. My mom helped Mary with everything and Mary would do the same for my mom. I always called them the Thelma and Louise of the family because while I was at work and my dad was in the convalescent home, they would go on their driving adventures.
During this time,in the back of my mind, I just kept asking myself "Who will care for my family?" My dad's injury not only changed my dad's life, it changed my mom, Mary and mine's as well because I had no one to care for them on a daily bases. On April 4, 2007, I made the decision and left my career at a credit union that I had worked for almost ten years to care for all three family members. My dad had to learn to gain his confidence to walk and to stand on his own; a year after his fall he finally got the courage to drive again and has been driving since. My mom’s health started to decline, simple things like bathing, cooking, changing her cloths became a challenge for her, Mary needed some one to take her to all her doctor’s appointments and run errands for her since my dad was still healing from his fall.
Deciding to quite my job and care for my family wasn't hard for me to make but I didn't realize the challenges that were coming my way. I had to sell my car, close my checking account because I had no source of income. I wasn't able to go and come freely to spend time with my friends, you loose some so-called "friends" and find out who are truly your friends. I didn't realize the personal challenges that I would be facing as time passed in caring for Mary, it's so overwhelming in seeing a family member slowly deteriorate. As time passed I became a whirl wind of emotions because as I seen my sister look somewhat healthy and as time passed she became completely helpless, dependent and so venerable.
On October of 2007 my family moved out of the house that was owned by the slumlord and bought a home of their own. Mary already had picked out her bedroom with the walk in closet while Joseph and I took the two other bedrooms. My parents actually had a huge master bedroom for their own private bathroom. For the first time in our family’s life we had central air system. Our beagle Penny had a huge fenced in backyard filled with grass instead of concrete.
Everything seemed to be behind us as we started to settle in our new home. However, little did we know that in January 2008 my sister Mary Magdalene would have the battle of her life and we would all be accompanying her to the end. 
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