Ive been looking after him for eight years, and not a single thankyou ever came my way.
You know how brutal it can be to care for someone whos ill, right? Even when its a close relative its a massive load, but I ended up looking after my daughterinlaws dad for eight long years. He was basically a stranger to me, and nobody ever bothered to say thank you. Its left a deep scar.
Im seventytwo now, and the story Im about to tell you happened almost fifteen years ago.
My husband passed away a long time ago. I have a son, David, a daughterinlaw called Poppy, and a grandson, Jack. Poppys dad, Arthur, was a lovely, decent bloke. He worked as a maths teacher until he fell seriously ill.
We tried everything to keep him alive and spent a small fortune on his treatment thousands of pounds, really. I chipped in what I could as well.
Eventually he was tied to his bed, and there was nobody else to look after him. David was swamped with work and travelling for business. Jack was still at university. Poppy had a fulltime job and a teenage sister, Rose, who lived in another city and could only call and send her thoughts.
Poppy wasnt allowed to take sick leave. The boss told her, Either you keep working or youre out. So she chose the job, and the whole caring gig fell to me.
At first Poppy asked me to drop by at least once a day to cook and feed him. I said yes, never thinking it would turn into an eightyear marathon.
In the beginning Id stay for a couple of hours and then head home. But as time went on Poppy kept adding more tasks, and soon I was spending the whole day with Arthur, only heading back in the evenings, and walking back in the mornings.
David felt sorry for me. He saw how hard it was and told me I should stop the charity work I was doing, but he never said a word to Poppy because he was still living in her flat.
It drove me mad when Rose kept ringing, telling me exactly what to do, how to do it, how I should look after her dad. Poppy would get irritable whenever I couldnt fit in something, and she even snapped, If you dont like it, pull your son in and leave! Ill manage on my own, Ill find a babysitter!
I swallowed that for eight years, and then Arthur passed away. None of his daughters ever thanked me for the years Id spent at his bedside. The eldest even said that no one had forced me to care for him; Id done it of my own accord.
Thats the thing you do something kind for people, and they can be so callous they dont even bother to say thank you. Its a bitter pill, but thats the truth.
