Man With Cerebral Palsy Faces Eviction

This is what I get for devoting 11 years of my life to caring for my mother sacrificing so that my so-called brother could have a life and a job. My mother basically gave them this house while I got NOTHING….You absolutely can NOT trust family. This all happened because I stood up for myself and they didn’t like it. I think we can agree that no one has the right to talk down to you for no reason….

Michael Sankovich dedicated over a decade of his life to caring for his disabled mother, ensuring her daily needs were met as she battled serious health issues. Now, months after her passing, he finds himself fighting to keep a roof over his head in the very home where he was once her primary caregiver.
Sankovich, who has cerebral palsy and relies on two quad canes to walk, moved into a Warminster home in 2019 with his mother, brother Jon, and Jon’s boyfriend, now husband, Dan. His mother, seeking a financially stable future, sold their previous home and put a down payment on the new house. However, despite being her full-time caregiver, Michael was excluded from the deed due to his inability to contribute financially—unlike his brother and brother-in-law, who co-owned the house.
“I was assured that I would always have a place here,” Sankovich says. “That this would be my home, even if anything happened to my mother.”
His mother’s health declined rapidly, suffering multiple strokes in 2019 and 2020, eventually becoming bedridden. As a result, Sankovich dedicated his time to providing her care, even sleeping on the couch in the in-law suite to be closer to her. But after her passing in March 2024, everything changed.

Broken Promises and Isolation

For months, Jon and Dan reassured Sankovich that he could remain in the home without worrying about rent or bills. However, by June, that promise unraveled. His brother informed him that they were selling the house for a "fresh start," planning to relocate to Delaware.
Initially, Sankovich agreed to move with them, feeling he had no alternative. But tensions flared when his brother confronted him on the day of the first open house, demanding to know when he would leave. When Sankovich replied he would be gone by 11 a.m., his brother lashed out: “If you’re going to screw this up for me, then you can get the f—k out.”
After that exchange, he decided not to move with them. What followed, he says, was a campaign of exclusion. His WiFi access was cut off, disrupting his ability to order groceries, manage his finances, and run his podcast network. It was only restored after his lawyer intervened. His mail was allegedly withheld for weeks, including a life insurance check from his mother’s policy.
“I felt like a prisoner in my own home,” he says. “I’m afraid to leave the in-law suite because I don’t know what they’ll take next.”
By December, his WiFi was cut off again, forcing him to set up his own service. Then, last week, his cable box was removed while he was out with a friend. “It’s too much of a coincidence,” he said. “It feels like they’re listening to my conversations.”

A Plea for Help

Sankovich now faces an uncertain future. His brother and brother-in-law want him out, they have even gone as far as filing a lawsuit against him to regain possession of the in-law suite, which is currently in appellate court, but he has nowhere to go. With limited mobility and no stable income, he says he is being pushed out of a home where he was promised security after years of sacrifice.
“I dedicated my life to taking care of my mother,” he says. “Now I’m left fighting to survive. I just want what I was promised.

He hopes his story will shed light on the struggles faced by disabled caregivers who are left vulnerable after dedicating their lives to their loved ones and is holding out the hope that he will be able to find stability.