DEAR BEL: My siblings won't help me care for our difficult, ageing mum - I want to just pack my bags and leave

DEAR BEL: My siblings won't help me care for our difficult, ageing mum - I want to just pack my bags and leave By BEL MOONEY FOR THE DAILY MAIL Published: 07:04 EST, 16 November 2024 | Updated: 07:04 EST, 16 November 2024 e-mail View comments Dear Bel, I’m caring for my mother, in her mid-90s. She lives in her own home and is fairly well off due to my dad’s pension, plus her own from teaching. My issue is this: I’m dependent on the money I earn from the state as her carer and this puts me in a vulnerable situation.

Both my siblings have little or nothing to do with our mother, as she’s always been prone to making trouble. One of her many tactics was causing rifts between us siblings to maintain control over all situations. I had hoped that maybe her control issues would become less debilitating as she aged, but unfortunately this has not been the case.



I look after her finances, garden, home maintenance, car, food shop, meal delivery, rubbish disposal etc etc, while also maintaining my own home. Financially she has been very decent to me, my siblings and her grandchildren. I’m grateful for that.

Both my siblings have told me, ‘Well, you’re getting paid to look after her.’ But, while this is true, caring is now a real challenge, as I’m older with a depressive disorder which requires medication. For the past 20 odd years, I’ve been the one to host my mother for Christmas and take her on holiday.

I accompany her to all doctor’s appointments and take care of all her medications. But she shows me no regard whatsoever and when I challenge her she says I’m mad, or stonewalls me and goes to the bedroom and covers her ears. Then I worry about her all night.

She’s never apologised. My dad went along with this behaviour ‘for a quiet life’ – a good man who gave up his own life for peace. Sometimes I regret he hadn’t the spirit to confront her, but he was a gentleman and also suffered with depression.

I would love to say, ‘I’m off, Mother’, but my circumstances don’t allow it. I’m also resentful at my siblings for preserving their mental health while they know I struggle with mine. Both are financially better off.

I have the utmost respect for carers and admire families who will all help and don’t leave it all to just one family member. Meanwhile, I struggle. ELIZABETH Bel Mooney replies: Regular readers (and thank you all for your marvellous loyalty and support) will know that from time to time a similar letter from a carer has appeared in this column.

Often the issues raised in such letters are pretty universal; it’s estimated that about 10.6 million people in Britain are carers, and that includes about 120,000 young people. Such people all matter.

But, of course, as you become older and have medical problems yourself, the burden of care becomes harder and harder. Please let nobody rebuke me for using the word ‘burden’. For the lucky ones, looking after an elderly relative is a joy as well as a loving duty, but it’s important not to romanticise the role.

To do that would be to diminish the real strain – even despair – felt by those who find it an exhausting and lonely task, especially when their relative proves to be difficult and selfish. I suspect it took a lot of courage for you to write, Elizabeth, even though you must be aware that I have no magic solution to your problem. Your family situation has been in place for years, and now leaves little room for flexibility.

Of course, your siblings should not be so indifferent to their mother’s situation and to the difficulties you have dealing with her moods and lack of appreciation. The trouble is, you took on your comprehensive role 20 years ago (presumably when your father was still alive) and, so doing, let them off the hook. Read More BEL MOONEY: My mother's secret has upturned my life.

How could she abandon her child? Is it possible to change that status quo? One question is whether you would find it strange not to be with your mother on Christmas Day. Or whether one of those siblings could host you both for a change. Is it possible for you to summon the energy to bring about a shift in the family dynamic? Most of us have a tendency to soldier on, perhaps moaning quietly, without saying ‘Enough!’ – and meaning it.

I wish you could stand up and challenge your siblings and tell them that your health is suffering, so what are they going to do? Since you say your mother has been financially generous to them and to their children, surely they have a duty to pay her back, at the very least? I’d certainly say so – and think you should, too. I’m afraid the only person who can challenge the situation is you. Sadly, you can’t change your mother’s personality.

It’s too late for her to morph into a sweet old lady who says thank you. But it might help to be in touch with like-minded people via carersuk.org and the forum they run, Carers Connect (forum.

carersuk.org). Sounding off to someone in a similar situation could make you feel less alone.

I hope so. Can I live a happy life without a soulmate? Dear Bel, I love your advice column in the Mail. However, I often wonder how you would have coped without your second, much-younger husband? Many women our age would find it difficult to find love again after 60.

If you hadn’t been the very talented Bel Mooney, do you think that your young husband would have been interested in you? I hope that you don’t find this email offensive. Would you have been happy without having someone in your life? Sending love to you, Bel. SUE Bel Mooney replies: Sue, I’m glad to say I don’t find anything remotely ‘offensive’ in your email; on the contrary I find it thought-provoking and honest.

Not to mention amusing! Years of giving talks at festivals and charity events have left me immune to any affront over personal questions. Of the two direct ones here, I’ll start with the second. Yes, I would have coped ‘without having someone in my life’, because I’ve always been independent and like my own company.

I’d certainly be skinnier because I’d be too lazy to cook for myself, but think I’d have been fine (probably with some darker days) because I’ve always had a wide circle of friends and the energy to embrace them. Recently, on our archaeology trip to Italy, we met a number of single women, mostly widowed, who now live life with glorious gusto on their own. And two men as well.

People like them don’t stay at home feeling sad, but go right out and meet life face-to-face. However, do I think it more fun to live with somebody dear? Most definitely. But if such good fortune doesn’t turn out to be part of your mysterious life agenda, then you just have to make a new list.

Was my second husband mesmerised by my success as an author and journalist? Hell no, I think the fact that I shared his musical-preferences (Bob Dylan, the Blues, jazz . . .

), gladly embraced his love of motorcycles as he embraced mine for old churches, didn’t expect him to share all my own passions (poetry and the classics, for example), love a drink, a silly joke, doing easy crosswords and watching TV . . .

all that was what mattered. He might also add that he fancied me . .

. just a wee bit! Age doesn’t matter; the willingness to talk, care, become a team and learn from each other does. Respect, too.

Your quirky email prompts a serious point. We all need to embrace change, especially as we grow older. But it’s such a mistake to stick to a rigid notion of the type of person you dream of, instead of being ready for the unexpected.

This applies to all ages. When people fill in their online dating specifications they make a mistake by saying ‘Must be tall’ or ‘Must like travel’ – because you never know what fun could await you with somebody the very opposite of what you thought you liked. Adapting and learning and sharing is what relationships need to be about.

So loosen up! Quote of the week Why does the lamb love Mary so? The eager children cry. Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know, The teacher did reply. From Mary Had A Little Lamb by Sarah Josepha Hale (American poet and educationist, 1788-1879) Advertisement And freshen up, too.

Don’t let your general style atrophy alongside your tastes. I sometimes see older men at the theatre with awful old T-shirts clinging to their beer guts, and women in their 60s wearing frumpy clothes I wouldn’t put on for gardening – and then I wonder what happened to taking pride? How is somebody going to be attracted to you if you look as if you don’t care tuppence about yourself? If there’s one thing worse than a young scruff, it’s an old scruff. You can’t put the clock back but older men and women alike can have clean hair, skin that’s taken care of, and a pleasant smile.

Shine your shoes and you’re shining your spirit, too. Try a new style (it might be a colour you’ve never worn, or a funky shirt) and you remind yourself that life can forever be tweaked, as long as you can summon up the will to do so. Yes (I repeat) I know it can be hard when you feel alone and dispirited.

But, Sue, if you switch the focus from trying to ‘find love’ to learning to love yourself, then the merry spirit of change will sparkle in your eyes. Be friendly. Take an interest in the world around.

That’s what draws people to you – and it has nothing to do with age. And finally..

. Seize the day before it's too late The November sun gilded the view of the beautiful valley; crisp brown and gold leaves spiralled down from the trees as I waited for the cremation service at Haycombe, Bath. So many mixed feelings: pleasant memories and present regrets.

Sadness at a life taken (it felt) too soon. Former actress, writer and psychotherapist Sheila Hawdon was two weeks older than me – a woman whose irrepressible joie de vivre seemed eternal. Her daughters, Lindsay and Gemma, were at school with my son.

Oh, where did that time go? Early as always, I studied the wall memorials. So much tenderness, repeated over and over again. Until we meet again.

We will love you for ever. Gone, but always in our hearts. A beloved bright spirit.

Dearly loved husband, father and granddad. Our lovely mum – rest in peace. Those who we love never go away.

Dad – reunited with Mother. Always in our thoughts. The nearby shrubbery and flowerbeds sprouted a crop of small memorial plaques, like so many late flowers, pale against the green .

. . another harvest of love and loss.

Similar words, yet each one as fresh as never thought of before. And then, of course, the cremation service was predictably beautiful: music, memories, smiles, tears, voices singing, ‘The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended’. Then we exit to Ella Fitzgerald singing Sheila’s favourite, Summertime.

‘So hush . . .

don’t you cry.’ Why am I telling you this? Because, after about 40 years, I gradually lost touch with Sheila, though we found each other on Facebook. I heard she was ill and we had plans to meet, but my complicated family life got in the way.

Preoccupied, I postponed – and now it’s too late. So my advice to you is heartfelt: if you know someone ill or old, seize the time. Don’t wait.

Advertisement Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.

co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities.

Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. Italy Share or comment on this article: DEAR BEL: My siblings won't help me care for our difficult, ageing mum - I want to just pack my bags and leave e-mail Add comment.