Imagine spending your entire life building a community around your child with disabilities — only to watch it slowly unravel because the direct support professionals and the organizations providing care are being systematically underfunded.

That’s the reality I face as the parent of my 45-year-old son, Andy, who lives with medical, mental health and intellectual disabilities. Andy is a lifelong Mainer and a proud graduate of Brunswick High School. He’s volunteered at the library, Meals on Wheels and even delivered newspapers downtown. Today, he lives in his hometown in a group home with five close friends — a home designed for aging in place. It was supposed to be his “forever home.”

But that promise of safety and stability is slipping away. Since December, Andy has lost 33% of the direct support professionals (DSPs) who care for him — not because they don’t care but because they can’t afford to stay. The proposed removal of the cost-of-living adjustment (COLA) from the supplemental state budget translates into a $250,000 revenue loss for the agency that supports Andy. With wages stagnant and overtime unsustainable and non-reimbursable, experienced staff are leaving. And the ripple effects are frightening.

Direct support professionals are the foundation of Maine’s care system for people with disabilities. On any given day, they provide personal care, manage medications, cook specialized meals, offer transportation, respond to medical and behavioral crises, and offer the kind of companionship and advocacy that no system can replicate. Yet despite doing critical, high-skill work, these workers are underpaid, overworked and often forced to work multiple jobs just to survive.

This workforce crisis isn’t theoretical — it’s here. Over 100 group homes in Maine have already closed. The staffing shortages are so severe that agencies are being penalized for failing to meet required ratios — while the remaining workers burn out. For people like Andy, that means higher risks of neglect, inconsistency and trauma. It means he may lose his home.

And for families like mine, it means living with the gnawing fear of what happens when we’re no longer around.

Lawmakers have the tools to stop this collapse. Maine law already requires that provider reimbursement rates keep up with inflation and remain at least 125% of the minimum wage. But with the minimum wage increasing and COLAs suspended, that promise is broken. It must be restored — not only to honor the people doing the work but to protect the people they care for.

And let’s be honest: Maine can afford to do the right thing. Bills under consideration would generate millions in new revenue by asking the wealthiest individuals and corporations to contribute just a bit more. If we don’t ask those who have far more than they need to pay their fair share, we’re left asking those who have the least — like direct care workers — to give up even more.

This isn’t just a budget issue. It’s a moral one. Will we choose to value our most vulnerable neighbors — and the workers who make their independence possible — or will we look away?

Kathy Rickards is a Brunswick resident.