Name changed. Essay incoming. And swearing of a sexual nature. As they say on TV.
Thank god, I found this forum.
Right now, I’m beginning to deal with the fallout of my nearly 80-year-old mum’s increasingly fragility. She’s always been an incredibly fit person, but two years ago had a fall due to long covid and being up a fucking ladder putting up Christmas cards. There has been something of a decline since.
She’s had several falls since. A couple of bad ones in the garden. Her house is lovely, but isolated (she still drives) and the stairs are a death trap.She’s not showering for fear of falling, but she is keeping herself clean and I have no worries about hygiene or neglect.
My dad died over 10 years ago and was the one great with organising finances with my mum (good job) writing the cheques. Her annuity is gone – she’s always been incredibly (over) generous and, quite rightly, has been living ‘her best life.’
My siblings and I…well, what do we say? My mum has narcissistic tendencies, so she wasn’t the best mother to me (the eldest and the rebel – I had to be the rebel to keep my boundaries) and next one down in the line of siblings we have Golden Boy who is controlling/self-obsessed and then we have the Baby Of The Family who is a functioning alcoholic and avoidant. GB lives overseas with his wife and three teenage daughters and Baby lives 100 miles away with his husband and dogs. I live an hour away by public transport.
My mum has started to talk about living differently in sheltered accommodation. I’m so glad she’s starting to think this way, so there is no battle, for all her faults, she’s incredibly sensible and genuinely doesn’t want to be a burden. As the annuity is gone, Golden Boy who’s loaded is using his share of the equity in the house to give her an allowance. I’m grateful for this. He also owns the house that Baby lives in. GB may view us as parasites – who knows?
I work very part-time self-employed due to having bipolar and the partner and I are by no means minted. But we do take my mum on holiday, go over there for bank holiday weekends, have her over here for weekends, buy meals, take her to the theatre. We can afford treats, but we can’t afford to give her an allowance.
I’ve sent an email a month ago to the siblings about mum’s desire to live differently. One went unanswered by both siblings until I chased it up and GB replied that he couldn’t deal with it as his lovely mother-in-law had broken her hip. I don’t think he can multi-task (joke) or grasps that our mum will have a broken hip until something is done that is preventative.
I finally, after lunch out my mum yesterday, where I watched her wobble, sent another email saying we must have a family conference about what to do. I suggested options – 1) make adjustments to the house (e.g., she moves downstairs as there’s space and it could be made really decent) or 2) we support her to moving to a one bed sheltered flat 3) we talk to social services to see what the pathway is to support (I don’t think she needs it now, but I think long term) and 4) an alarm pendant. After much nagging by me, she now has a cleaner and a gardener.
Golden Boy responds with ‘she didn’t fall when she was staying with us or when she was on holiday’.I held back from saying, but she’s falling at home which is the common denominator and a bit of a fucking clue, idiot. He then sent several documents from Age UK on fall prevention (I have read those as I’m not fucking stupid) and ‘is she doing her exercises?’ We paid for yoga lessons for her to help her balance, but it’s getting beyond that now.
Baby doesn’t respond, but, oddly enough, Golden Boy lets me know what Baby is OK to meet today at 6.30pm, so there’s obviously conversations going on.
I have no idea what this is about. Denial? Money? OR the time honoured...leave it to the sister cos she is a woman, has no kids (unlike GB) or dogs (like Baby and his husband) and is in her 50s and needs 'something to do.' Jesus, caring for older parents REALLY is a feminist issue, isn’t it?
Well, 5 minutes until family conference and I can’t wait to be patronised.