My son refuses to take his mother in to live with him because there can only be one lady of the house, and thats me.
Thats not right! Shes his mother! He could easily bring her into his own home! Those are the kind of things I hear from people on my husbands side. I know my friends think the same, even if no one says it to my face. And its all because of the situation with my mother-in-law.
Margaret is 83 now, weighs well over fifteen stone, and is constantly unwell.
Why dont you have Margaret move in with you? my cousin asked a few years ago. Its good you help her out every day, but what if something happens in the middle of the night? It must be hard, living all on her own. After all, your James is her only pillar of support.
It seems obvious, doesnt it? Her only son, his only wife, and her only grandson looking after Grandma. Margaret hasnt stepped outside her flat in five years. Her legs ache, and shes simply too heavy to move around. It all began thirty years ago, when Margaret was energetic, young, healthy, and very domineering.
Who have you brought to me? she snapped at the time, when I first met my then-boyfriend Jamess mother. I gave up everything for you, and now you bring me this?
After those words, I quietly headed to the bus. At that time, Jamess mum lived in a posh village outside Oxford, in a large and lovely house. Her husband had a significant position, and even after hed passed away, Margaret lived very comfortably. That day, James ran after me and insisted he would come home with me. I was lucky; James never blindly obeyed his mother. He respects his elders, but always tried to reassure me, excusing her as just her way.
After we got married, we started saving for our own house. James had to leave for work and would be gone for months at a time. Within a few years, we managed to buy our own place and did it up ourselves. We didnt visit Margaret that much. She was quick to fill Jamess head (and everyone elses) with tales, saying, You see? My daughter-in-law wont let James help me. As if I was forbidding it! And so on and on.
Eventually, she decided to move to London, but the money she got from selling the house wasnt enough. She asked us to chip in, promising the new flat would be left to our son, her grandson. But at the solicitors, she suddenly announced the flat had to be in her namea friend said grandmas often end up homeless otherwise. Then she said shed leave the flat to whoever cared for her in old age. She wanted to remain the lady of the house! She said we would trick her and leave her with nothing.
Nearly twenty years have passed since. Everyone at the solicitors heard her moaning, and we felt dreadful. In the end, we just let it go. She moved in almost immediately and wouldnt allow us to redecorate, not even a little. She stayed there for just under a month before complaining that everything was ancient and falling apart. My mother-in-law blamed me for everythingsaid Id found her a terrible flat and tried to cheat her.
Margaret adored her cousins children, but ignored her own grandson. She even pretended not to remember his birthday! A few years ago, her health really declined. She put on so much weight it became almost impossible for her to walk about the house. I would bring her healthy meals prescribed by doctors. Margaret would curse and refuse to eat, claiming only her cousin fed her properly and that I was starving her.
Last year, my husband started pleading with me to let his mum move in, insisting she finally understood and realised she must follow doctors orders.
Alright, I agreed, but here are my conditions: the kitchen is mine alone, Im the only one cooking and deciding what we eatand therell be none of her cousins visiting here.
My mother-in-law was outraged and refused to come because she thought shed be running the place. But theres only one true lady of this houseand its me! Instead, I was left to visit her, clean, cook, and sometimes even stay overnight. Meanwhile, the favourite cousin only expressed her worries by phone.
My mother-in-law would ring and complain that I starved her: no sweets or smoked sausages. Shed beg her cousin to visit and bring cakes, but her cousin always excused herself, saying she was too busy, and postponed each visit. She lived three times closer than I did but came round just once a month, always with something unhealthy. All the while, I took care of Margaret day in, day out.
One day, my mother-in-law rang her cousin in distress, claiming a necklace and a crucifix had gone missing. She said wed both visited that day, but was certain it was me whod taken them.
Wordlessly, I put her dinner on the table and picked up the chain and crucifix that had simply fallen behind her bedside table. At home, I told James everything and said I wouldnt go there anymore. I suggested we arrange a care home for her. James agreed.
