This isnt right! After all, she is his mother! He can bring her to his own home! Such remarks often come from those close to my husband. I know my friends secretly agree, but none of them say it to my face. The issue is all about my mother-in-law.
Barbara is 83, weighs over sixteen stone, and is frequently unwell. Why dont you let Barbara live with you? my cousin asked me a few years ago You do well visiting her daily, but what if something happens at night? Its difficult for her to be alone. And your Daniel, hes her only support.
Its always assumed that the elderly mother will be cared for by her only son, his wife, and their only child. Over the past five years, Barbara hasnt left her flat once. Her legs trouble her and her weight prevents her from moving freely. It all began thirty years ago, when my mother-in-law was lively, youthful and quite commanding.
Who have you brought to me? Daniels mother asked, utterly aghast when she first met me. Is this what I sacrificed my whole life for?
After those words, I walked quietly back to the bus stop. At the time, Daniels mum still lived on a prestigious estate on the outskirts of London, in a splendid house. Her husband held a distinguished position, so Barbara enjoyed a comfortable life, even after he passed away. On that day, Daniel caught up with me and went home with me. Im grateful for my husband: he didnt blindly obey his mother. He respects his elders, though. He tried to reassure me, explaining it was simply his mums prickly nature.
Once we married, we began saving up for a place of our own. Daniel left for work and didnt return for six months. Before long we managed to buy ourselves a house, and then finished furnishing it. We seldom visited Barbara. She would gossip about me to Daniel and anyone who would listen. Apparently, her daughter-in-law wouldnt let her son help his mum. As if I ever stood in his way! And so the story went, growing legs with every retelling.
She decided to move to London, but the proceeds from her house werent enough. She suggested we chip in, promising to leave her flat to our son, her grandson. But at the solicitors, she suddenly insisted that the flat be left to her a friend had told her this way grandmothers werent left homeless. She then declared shed leave it to whichever relative cared for her in old age. She wanted it all on her terms! She said wed swindle her and abandon her with nothing.
Nearly twenty years have passed since then. Everyone in the solicitors office heard her fussing and whining it was excruciatingly awkward. We decided to let it go. Barbara moved in almost immediately and didnt even allow us freshen up the place. After barely a month, she complained about everything: the flat was old, things were falling apart, nothing worked. My mother-in-law blamed me for it all: Id found the wrong flat and was trying to cheat her.
She adored her cousins children but ignored her own grandson, even pretending to forget his birthday! A few years ago Barbaras health declined further. She had grown so heavy, moving around her home became a struggle. I brought her nourishing food prescribed by the doctor, but Barbara cursed and refused to eat, insisting only her cousin fed her properly I, apparently, starved her.
Last year Daniel pleaded with me to let his mother move in with us. He believed shed finally listened to her doctors. Fine I agreed, but I set terms: the kitchen was mine alone, Id oversee meals, and none of her cousins were to visit.
My mother-in-law protested she imagined shed come and run the household. But theres only room for one lady of the house, and thats me! In the end, I continued to visit, clean up, cook, sometimes even stay overnight. Her favourite cousin merely called every so often to check in.
Barbara moaned on the phone that I starved her: no sweets, no sausages. She would beg me to bring cakes, but her cousin, always too busy, promised visits that never happened even though she lived three times closer than I did. The cousin only showed up once a month, bearing a bag of unhealthy treats, while I cared for Barbara daily.
One afternoon, Barbara rang her cousin, complaining that her necklace and cross had gone missing. She declared that both her cousin and I had visited that day, but she was sure Id taken them.
Without a word, I placed her food on the table, and picked up the chain and cross which had slipped off her bedside cabinet. Later, I told Daniel everything and decided not to go back. I suggested we look into a care home for her. Daniel, in the end, agreed.
After all this, Ive learned that family loyalty is important, but so is setting your boundaries. Sometimes, even when you do everything right, you wont please everyone. And thats alright.
