This Biker Came to My Mother’s Nursing Home Every Sunday Pretending to Be Her Son, and She Believed Him

I hadn’t visited my mother at Sunshine Meadows Nursing Home in three years. She had dementia and barely remembered me—her real son. Yet every Sunday for four years, a biker named Tommy showed up. He wasn’t family, but my mother called him her son. He brought cookies, shared motorcycle stories, and never missed a visit.

When I finally returned, I met Tommy. Angry and confused at first, I learned he wasn’t pretending—he simply filled the gap left by my absence. He had cared for my mother out of love, not money, reminding me that showing up matters more than anything else.

Now, I visit every Saturday, Tommy comes Sundays and Wednesdays. My mother often forgets who I am, but for brief moments, she knows me again. Together, we show her love daily—her biological son and the one she chose.

It’s a story of dementia, devotion, and the unexpected ways family is built.