My husband and I had my mother to live with us when she could no longer look after herself. It seemed easier than driving 200 miles every time she had a fall, which was frequent. Her worst nightmare was the thought of being 'put in a home' so we promised not to do that. It had already broken her heart to leave her perfect bungalow in the country and move to our terraced house in south London.
I have rheumatoid arthritis which had been well under control until she came - she decided she did not like my lovely kind husband so would not even accept a cup of tea from him so I did everything. She woke me several times a night to use the toilet. She phoned my sister (who didn't visit during the four years our mother was with us) telling her we were stealing her money, ill treating her. My sister chose to believe her. I became an ailing shadow. We had just one week of respite, arranged by the social services, and we locked ourselves in for the week and slept.
My mother paid to have a handicap shower room built and two bedrooms converted into a little home. We don't have money, so she had to use some of her bungalow sale money, which upset her badly and caused more phone calls to my sister about our abuse of her. She kept her pension and gave us £20 per week from her Attendance Allowance, paid for the carer, and sent the rest my sister. It didn't cover the extra heat and phone calls but I was too tired to argue.
During the building work she joked and laughed with the builders - it seemed she was still inside there, hidden away. The builders could see the situation from the outside and suggested we have a day out, they would look after Mum. We did. Next day they told us she had been up and dressed, making them cups of tea and bacon sandwiches. They loved her.
Social services did what they could within their budgets, but the 'care' element was useless. We could only get the 7am to 7.30 slot, which meant 7.20 because they have to get to the next client by 7.30. Mum was difficult to wake and I had to get up to let the carer in because she didn't want to keep a key. The care was a cup of tea and a wipe with a flannel plus one shower a week.
During all this time I could not go and visit my distant grandchildren, nor could they visit us.
The last weeks of her life were in hospital which was almost worse. I drove to visit every day or she would not have eaten. Nobody fed her or held a beaker of tea or water for her, except some of the other patients. I adored my mother, always wanted her approval, but the day she died was a relief.
My sister came to the funeral and asked why the bungalow money was not still untouched, we should have paid for our own 'home improvements.' She asked where the will was, Mum had told her there was a will. There was no will and the remaining money was split. My sister has not spoken to me since.
Before you do what we did, please consider your own health and circumstances, remember there is no real care available. You will be the care giver. The kindly women who do it have no time, they are also abused by the greedy system.