For the past three months, Ive been tangled up in court battles with my brother, all because of Mum. Ever since the stroke, shes been a fragment of herselflost at every turn, needing someone to steady her every step. Looking after her is like caring for a small child. Ive got a job, a house, a family of my own. I keep wondering: how can I split myself in two? I offer to move her to a care home, but my brother erupts, accusing me of cruelty, while refusing to take her in himself. After all, he lives in his wifes flat.
We used to be a perfectly ordinary familythe four of us, joined at the hip. Just one year between me and my brother. Our parents waited late to have us. Now Im thirty-six, hes thirty-five, and Mum is already seventy-two. Everything was fine until Dad died.
After that, my brother dashed off for university in Manchester and stayed on, got married. I moved back to Oxford, settled down, and at first lived with Mum and Dad. When I married, my husband and I preferred to rent a place, planning to buy our own flat later and start a family. Those were the plans.
Just two years ago, Dad died, and Mum shrank with grief. The house felt empty; she aged overnight. She was ill, and six months ago, she had the stroke. I thought that would be the end. At first, she struggled to speak, her limbs limp and mute. Eventually she regained movement, but her mind was battered.
The doctors say the damage is permanent, so it falls to me to care for her. My husband and I packed up and moved to her flat. I changed careers, became a freelancer so I could always be around. I couldnt leave her alone. Even when she could walk again, nothing was easier.
Shed stammer and wander off, and wed chase her down the street, unable to keep her indoors. Shed sob and claim Dad was waiting for her somewhere. It was all terribly surreal, like a bad dream. Sleep slipped away from me. Anxiety gnawed at mewhat if she wandered off for good? Work suffered; I couldnt focus. My husband suggested a care home.
Its dreadfully expensive, but possible if I juggle everything just right. My husband reasons: Youve got a brotherlet him shoulder some of the cost. Seems only fair.
I delayed, wracked with guilt, but theres no other option. How much longer can this go on? Shed get full care, nurses twenty-four hours. I visited the place myself, asked all my questions. It costs a fortune£2,500 a monthbut what else can I do?
So, I called my brother and laid everything out, hoping hed see sense. Instead, he raged.
Are you mad? You cant just ship your own mother off to a care home! Its full of strangers. How will you know shes really cared for? Youre heartless! he spat into the receiver. You just want her out of your hair.
I tried to defend myself, but he wouldnt have it. So, I slogged on, caring for Mum alone. Until the day I began to crack under the pressure. I raised it with him again, but he hadnt softened.
Id never wanted to abandon Mum. She brought us up herselfno nannies, no foster homes. She never complained about how hard we made her life.
We owe her everything, both of usso why is it on my back alone? If my solution doesnt suit him, he can bring Mum to his own place and unleash his kindness there.
You know I live with my wifein her flat, he counters. How can I ask her to look after her mother-in-law? So my husband can care for his mother-in-law but your wife cant? The logic is dreamlike. You and your husband live with Mum. So he handles her care.
I told him I could walk out on Mum right now. Let him and his wife move in. My brother hedged; he works, cant be distracted, insists I just want to dodge responsibility.
Life drudges on like a fever dream. On one hand, I know I must commit her to the care homeitll ease the lives of everyone. On the other, guilt gnaws me; I dread being seen as the ungrateful daughter. My husband is staunchly on my side. He says shell be well cared for there, and we have our own lives to live.
Ive decided to wait just one more week. If my brother doesnt step up, Ill do what I must. Mum will go to the home. People are always eager to hand out advice, but Im the only one bearing the load of caring for someone so fragile. Let my brother come up with excuses for his matesIm done with it all.
