Navigating the burden of care

“It was a very difficult period and looking back I question whether I did it right and people think I didn’t but back then I did my best. I did what I could have done physically, emotionally and even spiritually but was it enough? I guess we may never know.

“People could talk when they are not in the situation but when you are in it sometimes it feels like there is no way out, anything you do never seems enough,” she said shaking her head.

“Look, my mother and I never really had a very good relationship but when she got ill I knew it was my obligation to take care of her. But at times I felt she was taking advantage of the situation. Now that I am out of the situation, I wonder if I was being too harsh but then it felt I was going crazy.” n her 30s with two young children, she shared with me how difficult it was caring for her then ailing mother who eventually passed away.

I“It is like people would say, ‘it is your mother, she care for you since you were a baby’. But would I be too wrong to say, ‘well she brought me into the world and so had an obligation to care for me?’ Yea I know it is not the Christian thing or maybe the morally right thing to say but don’t tell me not to think it.

“My mother had three children and you know when she got ill who everybody looked at? Me. Yes me. It was like I was the only one, the other two claim they had to work. Granted, I did not work but I had a young family, only married a short while and had two children.

“Girl and let me tell you it was very hard. Me alone, my husband working, now tell me how I could juggle hospital with two young children? I not shame to tell you I use to make it one time a day and that was a sacrifice. When I done I felt like I also could be admitted. I had to do the early morning run so that I could meet back home, and my husband could head out to work,” she said, speaking rapidly.

“At times I felt ashamed because it was like I was not doing enough and of course people were talking. My siblings had the perfect excuse. After all they were working and if they lose their jobs how would that help my mom? But what about me? Who would have helped me when I collapsed? Who would have helped me if my marriage fell apart?” she asked, not expecting answers to the many questions.

“But even before my mother went into hospital the situation was difficult. There were times when I felt, rightly or wrongly, when I believed she could have done more for herself. But she was comfortable to sit down and depend on people to do it for her. It hurt because I knew she could have done more but the picture she presented was that she was helpless, and her children were failing her, and people were too happy to take that in,” she shared.

“I remembered one situation where my mother waited until she had visitors to cry out that she was waiting to go to the toilet and no one wanted to take her. Now the toilet is in the house and yes, my mother had difficulty walking, but she could have gone to the toilet on her own. I assisted her, and it was if my mother could not have done it by herself. I tell you I was upset and embarrassed all at the same time,” she said, her frustration showing even though her mother died months ago.

“So those are the experiences I have had, and nobody cared about the fact that I had to travel from some distance with my young children to be with her and many times having to leave my home days at a time.

“As my mother got down she became miserable. Yes, I have said it, she was miserable. Yes, I know she was ill and she suffered but it was like the world owed her something and she was the first and only person who got sick. Some may say I am being cruel but that is how I felt at the time and looking back I still believe she overdid it,” she said.

“And then she was hospitalized, and it got worse. At one time I felt my mother lost the will to live…,” she paused as she reflected on this and it took a while before she continued.

“But that is how it how it seemed at the time, she no longer wanted to try and she not trying meant that you had to do everything for her. She did nothing and it was so hard at times because it was me alone on many occasions and physically I could not handle it let alone emotionally.

“Then that day came, and she died, yes she died,” she said, and tears trickled down her cheeks.

“And you know when I heard I am ashamed to tell you I felt… I felt…,” and she broke off.

She remained silent for a while and I knew she was fighting to find the right words.

“I felt a sense of relief, there I have said it.” There was more silence.

I attended the funeral and she cried like a baby, so I asked her about those tears.

“Girl, I cried for many things. Those tears did not mean [just] one thing. I cried because of the relief I felt when she died, and I wondered if I would endure a similar experience in my old days. I cried because she was never the mother I longed for and I cried for her too, because she did not get a happy life. It was like my mother was never happy, it was always sadness around her and that is why I was happy to marry and move away,” she answered.

“Look the parent-child relationship is not an easy one and we must learn from the experiences we have had when growing up and my only thing is to ensure that I don’t make the same mistakes my mother made,” she added.

As she spoke, I nodded in agreement because while I have not walked an identical path I have had firsthand experience of how difficult it is to care for a loved one who is ill.

I think I need to remind readers of the aim of this column, which is to share the various experiences of women in their own words. I must admit that it falls short as initially it had promised all sorts of experiences, inclusive of happy ones, but these have been missing. I will endeavour to make it right; happy experiences are worth sharing and as someone pointed out, women cannot just have bad experiences.