For the past twelve years, I have enjoyed a generally happy life after leaving my chaotic family for my husband’s seemingly perfect one. However, I now question that decision. The reason? My mother-in-law, who suffers from Alzheimer’s, has drawn me into the role of her primary caregiver.
No one officially appointed me this position; it just happened. Out of six sons and their wives, everyone else always seems “too busy.” To me, that translates to a lack of concern now that she’s no longer funding our family vacations. They know I’ll be the one to step up.
Caring for her has not been easy. To be honest, I’ve never particularly liked her. She treasures high-end items like Limoges and Waterford, while I prioritize practicality—like a car that gets me to the grocery store. She looks down on anyone who doesn’t know proper table etiquette. I often find myself rummaging for plastic utensils when our forks are in the dishwasher. Our different lifestyles and personalities have clashed, and she’s made that disparity known, often in public. I never expected to become the one person she relies on most in the family.
Surprisingly, it’s less burdensome to care for her now that dementia has softened her harshness. She has become more vulnerable and maternal, offering cookies and gentle pats instead of judgment. This transformation has allowed me to see a warmer side of her.
I should feel grateful that this experience has brought us closer, but that gratitude is often overshadowed by resentment. I’ve shed some of my previous disdain for her, but it has been replaced by frustration with the rest of the family. Since her memory began to fade, family members who live just a few miles away seem to have vanished. They rarely visit or even answer her calls.
I find myself handling all her needs, from reminding her to take her medication to ensuring she eats and bathes. I don’t want to come off as a martyr, as everyone claims to be doing their part. Just this morning, my sister-in-law, Lisa, texted to say she had organized a pedicure for our mother-in-law. That’s thoughtful, right? Except she added, “Someone will have to take her there; I’m out of town.”
The word “someone” is a recurring theme. “Someone needs to help her find her remote,” “someone has to take her shopping,” and “someone must take her car keys away.” It’s clear who that someone is—me.
My brother-in-law, Mike, announced via text that he’d be visiting on Monday. Nice gesture, but his appointment coincides with the physical therapist’s visit. He suggested I reschedule or he could just “try again when we get back from our vacation.” As we exchanged texts, I wondered when I became the go-to caregiver, the personal assistant, and the family scheduler. “We need a calendar to track her appointments,” he suggested.
Not once has anyone offered to genuinely lighten my load. No one has said, “Let me know how I can help.” Instead, I hear compliments like, “You’re amazing!” or “I could never manage all of this!”
These platitudes have become annoying. When I hear them, I feel my body tense up and think, “Don’t just give me a half-hearted compliment and expect me to feel appreciated. I need help, not praise.”
Their empty words feel manipulative, like the way parents sometimes coax children into doing chores by showering them with flattery. I’ve experienced it myself as a parent, but as the default caregiver for my mother-in-law, it feels unjust. Their thanks seem more like a way to absolve themselves of responsibility.
Friends tell me I need to step back, but how do I leave an 89-year-old with Alzheimer’s to fend for herself? I’m unsure how this will unfold, but I refuse to remain the family’s go-to “someone.”
You often hear stories of families falling apart after a death, revealing true character traits. I feel like I’m experiencing something similar, but without a death. I once felt a strong connection to my in-laws; now, as I shoulder this burden alone, I can only feel resentment.
In Conclusion
If you find yourself in a similar caregiving role, it’s essential to communicate your needs and set boundaries. You don’t have to carry the weight alone.
For more insights into family dynamics and support, check out this article from Healthline, an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. Additionally, if you’re interested in home insemination kits, visit Make a Mom. For more related reads, see our post here.
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