Oh, I hear ya. Not long ago, a neighbour and I were discussing this very thing. As we sat in my dining room table after dinner, enjoying a glass of wine, the subject came up as it often does. Particularly for women of our age. Her own mother was the primary caregiver; she does, or rather did, everything until she fell ill and the responsibility fell to my friend. Her brothers did little. Both claimed that they were too busy with their own lives—careers, wives, kids, jobs, Thursday night hockey, pressures of work—you know the drill. Same old stuff.