My mom is 78 and she has been guilt tripping me to be her care taker. She is currently living with my brother to help raising his kids.
She constantly tells me once they are old enough, she will move in with me so that I can take care of her.
The thing is I don’t know if I am capable. I can’t guarantee the future.
I also don’t want to shoulder the financial burden. She has money but she wants me to pay for her expenses so that she can leave (my brother’s) a generous inheritance. She always tellsd me I won’t get anything since 'i have no kids and I have enough money, and he needs more."
Now we are not talking. It hurts. Why can’t she understand not everyone can be a caretaker? Why is she expecting me to help raising his kids indirectly?
I’m sorry to hear you going through this, to me it felt like having to drag a heavy rock tied to my throat. My granddad did the same to mum and I and it was… draining.
He completely let himself go after grandma died (he was about 67-70 then), stopped doing stuff, and lost a leg due to poor circulation and diabetes. He expected mum to do his every bidding, even to move out of her apartment with her boyfriend and everything on the 24th of December, because he suddenly didn’t like the countryside anymore and wanted to switch. It was, of course, a ploy to force himself to become a flatmate. Eventually, mum was diagnosed with cancer and had to undergo chemo, and he still had her running errands the day after, in between bouts of her regurgitating her ass off.
After she died, that expectation fell on me, as he was my main paternal figure growing up (the grandparents were the dominators in the family, mum and I the dominated, long story). I said “fuck that” faster than he could blink. I did everything I could do for him, like scheduling medical appointments, paying his bills, and once he couldn’t function by himself anymore (overadministered insulin and put himself in a brief Christmas coma) finding him a spot at an old folks’ home, a 20-minute cab ride from my front door (we lived in different cities, moved him to mine). Shit went South fast because he couldn’t stand not being in control, but that’s a different story, and also where our interactions stopped for the most part.
The point is, nobody has any right to impose on you in any way, even your parents. Yes, they did raise and provide for us, but we do not owe them the same by default. That was their responsibility for making us in the first place. This type of caretaking has to be earned.
I struggled with this feeling for a long time in my twenties (same, about mum), but I realised that the sense I had for my “given” family (a.k.a. the one I didn’t choose) was that I’ll be there for any medical or otherwise serious emergencies, but we will not live together, nor will I wipe their ass. Unless we get along REALLY well and they enrich my life with their presence! Otherwise, I’ll do what’s strictly necessary to keep them alive, and that’s that.
Thank you for putting it together so nicely.
This is exactly my dilemma. I don’t want to lie to her. Near the end of my dad’s life, my mom also wanted to put my dad in a nursing home. She just “doesn’t” remember (or conveniently thinks it doesn’t apply to her )
I just want her to understand my limits. Obviously she didn’t like my answer. We should to talk daily and now we haven’t talked for more than a week.
You’re very welcome, glad something resonated!
Also, yep, totally get that, too. But, unfortunately… our boundaries are for us, not for others, they’re how much we accept/allow/offer/etc., as a self-imposed limit. All you can do is give both her and yourself space from the tension. It may well be inevitable, but no sense in forcing it.
What I did with granddad was consistently and constantly repeating the idea that he would need specialised medical care, of which I am not capable. In addition, he’d need mobility assistance, assistance with grooming, with cooking, with cleaning, with feeding, and I told him straight from the beginning that I don’t do roommates, nor do I do house calls. I’d repeat this idea every time he’d hit a medical hurdle, and I’d casually drop nice places I’d find into the conversation. I didn’t force anything, I didn’t pester him, and when he got aggressive, I’d end the subject and move on to something practical.
He asked me to find him a spot after about two years of this arrangement. It was that self-induced coma I mentioned which woke him up, as one of my aunts and another neighbor had a really hard time moving an unconscious 70kg old fuck off the mattress. And I only made it back there after he’d already been admitted into the hospital (he came to after about 3 days).
That’s how I’d go about things if I had to do it again, stand firm with my limits, and reinforce them assertively and with patience whenever needed. I think part of the reason why it’s hard to accept the possibility of moving to a home is because they can’t even conceive of it, plus because they’re convinced they’re right in their assumption that we’d drop our lives and play the 24/7 caretakers.
Please, try to focus on the fact that YOU know where you stand. You know your limits on this, you know what you are and aren’t willing to offer, you have full control over those and nobody can take that away from you, let alone through mere disbelief.
Edit: it may or may not be a factor, but guilt was a pretty big kick in the groin for me. I don’t really have any advice for dealing with it other than constantly reminding yourself of the fairness of what is asked of you, but in my case it was comorbid with other trauma-based maladaptations. Anyway, hope with all my heart it won’t chew at your toes as much as it did mine, and that things’ll progress as peacefully as possible for you!