Thats just not right! Shes his mother, after all! He can take her into his own home! Those words, full of accusation, echo from my husbands side of the family. I know my friends share the sentiment, though none of them have the nerve to say it to my face. The crux of it all is the situation with my mother-in-law.
Margaret is eighty-three, weighs well over sixteen stone, and is always unwell. Why dont you bring Margaret to live with you? my cousin asked me years ago. Its good you help her daily, but what if something happens at night? Its difficult for her, living alone. After all, your David is the only one she has.
Its painfully clear: her only son, his only wife, and the only grandson must care for her. For the past five years, Margaret hasnt left her flat. Her legs ache, and her weight keeps her from moving. It began three decades ago, back when she was lively, young, healthy and fiercely controlling.
Who have you brought to meet me? demanded my future husbands mother, her voice sharp as she eyed me. Is this what Ive sacrificed my whole life for?
After those words, I walked silently to the bus stop. At the time, my husbands mother lived on a grand estate on the outskirts of Reading, in a large, impressive home. Her husband held an esteemed position, so Margaret enjoyed a comfortable life even after he passed. That day, David caught up with me and walked beside me. I was lucky with my husband; he didnt blindly follow his mother, but he always respected his elders. He tried to calm me, explaining it was simply her nature.
Once married, we started saving for our own place. David moved out and was gone for six months, working hard. Years later, we managed to buy a house and finished renovating it. We finally completed it. We didnt visit Margaret often. She made sure to spread rumours about me to David and anyone who would listen. You see, my daughter-in-law wont let me help my son. What do you mean she wont allow it? And so on.
She decided to move to the city, but the money from the estate wasnt enough. She suggested we chip in, promising the flat would go to our son, her grandson. Yet, at the solicitors, she suddenly insisted the flat should be left to herher friend had warned her that old ladies were often left homeless. Next, she declared shed leave it to whoever cared for her in her old age. She wanted to be the matriarch again! She claimed wed trick her and leave her with nothing.
Its been nearly twenty years since that day. Everyone in the solicitors office heard her wailing, and we were mortified. We decided to drop it. She moved almost straightaway and wouldnt even let us make small improvements. She lived there for about a month before complaining that everything was old, falling apart. My mother-in-law blamed me: Id chosen the wrong flat and meant to deceive her.
Margaret adored her cousins children but neglected her own grandson. She even pretended not to remember his birthday. A few years ago, she became seriously ill. Shed gained so much weight that she could barely move. I brought her healthy food prescribed by the doctor. Margaret cursed and refused to eat, claiming only her cousin fed her properly and I was starving her.
Last year, my husband started pleading for us to take her in. He believed his mother had finally understood and would follow the doctors advice.
All right, I agreedbut I set terms: the kitchen would be mine alone, I would decide what we ate, and none of her cousins would visit.
My mother-in-law was outraged and refused because she planned to come and run our home. But theres only one lady of the house, and thats me. I had to visit her, clean, cook, and even stay overnight; meanwhile, the beloved cousin would merely phone, expressing concern about Margarets well-being.
Margaret rang her cousin to complain: I was starving herno sweets, no smoked ham. She begged me to come bring cakes. But the cousin, always too busy, postponed a visit, though she lived three times closer than I did. She only popped round once a month, delivering junk food, while I looked after Margaret every single day.
One afternoon, my mother-in-law rang her cousin and complained that her necklace and cross were missing. She said wed both visited that day, but was sure Id taken them.
Quietly, I laid her meal out, retrieving the chain and cross which had fallen behind her bedside table. At home, I told David everything and decided I wouldnt visit again. I suggested we look for a care home for Margaret. And David agreed.
