Without a phone or tablet, I wrote letters to Tyler every day from the nursing home asking him to visit me. Not once did I get a response or a visit.

After two years in the nursing home, I lost any hope of anyone coming. “Please, take me home,” I would pray every night, but after two years, I tried to convince myself not to get my hopes up anymore.

One day, however, I was surprised to find out from my nurse that a man in his forties was at the counter, looking for me. “Did my son finally come to visit?” I said, getting my walker quickly before making my way to the front.

When I got there, I had a big smile on my face thinking it was Tyler, but to my surprise, it was another man I hadn’t seen in ages. “Mom!” he called out and gave me a tight hug, his arms strong and familiar. I was stunned, trying to process who this was. I hadn’t seen him in so long, but there was no mistaking his face — it was my other son, James.

“James?” I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me, Mom,” he said, pulling back to look at me, his eyes misty. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

I was speechless, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. I hadn’t seen James in nearly a decade. He had moved across the country for work, and we had gradually lost touch. I had spent so many nights praying for Tyler, the son who had stayed nearby but never visited, that I never imagined James would be the one to come walking through those doors.

“What… what are you doing here?” I asked, still trying to understand. “How did you know where I was?”

James smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t know you were here until recently,” he said, his voice heavy. “I came back to town for a business trip, and I ran into someone who knew you. They told me… well, they told me you were here, and I knew I had to see you.”

I felt a pang of sadness, realizing how much time had passed. “I wrote to Tyler,” I said, my voice cracking. “I wrote to him every day, asking him to come see me. But he never did. I thought maybe he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

James’s face darkened for a moment, and I saw his jaw clench. “Mom, there’s something you need to know,” he said quietly. “I went to see Tyler before I came here. I found him at his apartment, and… I asked him about the letters.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You… you did? What did he say?”

James hesitated, his eyes full of regret. “He said he never got them,” he said softly. “But Mom, I think he was lying. He seemed… off. I asked him why he hadn’t visited you, and he got defensive. He said he was too busy, that he had a lot going on, but I could tell there was more to it.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I tried to hold them back. “He used to visit me every week,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “And then one day, he just stopped. I kept writing, hoping he’d change his mind, but…”

James reached out and took my hands, squeezing them gently. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said. “I wish I had known sooner. I should have been there for you.”

I shook my head, trying to stay strong. “It’s not your fault, James. You had your own life. I just… I don’t understand why Tyler would ignore me. I thought I did something wrong.”

“No, Mom,” James said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Whatever’s going on with Tyler, that’s on him. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

His words brought a warmth to my heart, a feeling I hadn’t had in so long. I had spent two years feeling abandoned, but now, at least, I had James. “Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking. “I missed you so much.”

James smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “I missed you too,” he said. “And I’m not going to let this happen again. You shouldn’t be alone here.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, and for the first time in years, I felt like I had a piece of my family back. James asked about my health, about how I was spending my days, and I could see that he genuinely cared. It was a stark contrast to the silence I had felt from Tyler.

As we sat in the little lounge area, sipping tea, James suddenly turned serious. “Mom, I don’t know what Tyler’s been going through, but I’m going to find out,” he said. “If he’s been ignoring your letters on purpose, there’s a reason. And if he’s struggling, then I want to help him — but he can’t keep doing this to you.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. I still didn’t understand why Tyler would have cut me off so completely, but I was grateful that James was willing to try and figure it out. “Just… be careful,” I said softly. “I don’t want there to be any trouble.”

James squeezed my hand again. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “But I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.”

A few days later, James came to visit me again, and I could tell from the look on his face that he had news. “I talked to Tyler,” he said, sitting down across from me. “And I found out what happened.”

I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever he was about to say. “What did he say?” I asked.

James hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “Mom, Tyler was struggling. More than I think anyone realized. He… he’s been dealing with some problems — depression, mostly. And he didn’t want you to see him like that, so he started avoiding you. But when I asked about the letters, he finally admitted that he got them. He just… he couldn’t bring himself to respond.”

I felt a lump in my throat, and tears started to blur my vision. “But why didn’t he just talk to me?” I whispered. “I would have understood.”

“I don’t know,” James said softly. “I think he was ashamed. Like he didn’t want to admit that he was struggling, even to you. But the thing is… he didn’t realize how much it hurt you to be ignored.”

I wiped my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. “So what now?” I asked. “What happens to him?”

“He wants to see you, Mom,” James said. “I told him everything — how you’ve been writing to him, how much you missed him. I think it finally got through to him, and he wants to make things right.”

I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me was relieved, but another part was still hurt, still raw from the years of silence. “Do you think I should see him?” I asked, looking at James.

“I think you should do what feels right for you,” he said gently. “But I know he wants to apologize. And maybe this is a chance for both of you to heal.”

That evening, as I sat in my room, I thought about everything James had said. I thought about Tyler, about how he had shut me out, and about the pain I had carried because of it. But I also thought about how much I had loved him, and how maybe, just maybe, he needed a second chance.

The next day, when the nurse came to tell me that there was a visitor waiting, I felt my heart start to race. I grabbed my walker and made my way to the front, not sure what I would say when I saw him.

But when I turned the corner, there was Tyler, standing there with tears in his eyes. He looked older, thinner, and there was a sadness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. “Mom,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

And just like that, the walls I had built around my heart started to crumble. “Oh, Tyler,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I missed you so much.”

He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, and for the first time in two years, I felt like I had my son back. We stayed like that for a long time, just holding onto each other, as if trying to make up for all the lost time. And in that moment, I knew that whatever had happened, we would find a way to get through it together.