This is one of a series of three stories profiling family caregivers.

We moved to Spokane in the summer of 2020, not only to spend some time with my wife’s dad, who was remarried, but also to spend some time with her mom, who was starting to have some challenges.

She had an apartment in a low-income senior housing facility, but with really no services. She didn’t have a lot of money, just Social Security and Medicare. At one point, one of my mother-in-law’s doctors said she can’t really live alone anymore, because if she does, her life will be very much shortened. She moved in with us in 2022. One reason was because the doctor said she needed to eat and drink a certain way. There was a moment when she asked for some chocolate bars, and my wife said no. A reign of abuse followed.

Thankfully, my wife is a nurse, and she said, you know, I’m seeing these symptoms. A lot of forgetfulness, shorter temper. Confusion. She would always do her own banking, and would see a charge on her account, and couldn’t remember what that was for. She immediately thought it was
fraud, so she would call the bank to cancel her credit or debit card. This happened a lot, and there’s consequences where you suddenly stop payments on things. That was an issue. She couldn’t remember what the instructions were on her medication dosage, these types of things. It became very obvious that something was going on here.

She started getting angrier because I think she felt lost. She had always been an independent person. I think she felt that we were infringing on her independence.

My wife was finishing up her master’s degree and (was frequently) out of town. I worked from home full time, so I was with her full time. And when the kids were in school, it was just me and her at home. (One day) I was on a Zoom meeting. It was a critical meeting. It was a sunny day, and she decided she was going to go sit in the backyard and enjoy the sun. Even though I made sure the back door was unlocked, she thought it was locked and couldn’t get back in the house. The window to my office was open, and she was wandering around the perimeter of the house screaming for me about needing to get back in. I had to finish this discussion, and I felt horrible that I couldn’t run to open the door for her. It was just heart-wrenching. It was a gut punch. That was one of the lighter moments, actually. There were some other situations that were much worse.

She started getting angrier because I think she felt lost. She had always been an independent person. I think she felt that we were infringing on her independence. My two older kids were noticing that as well, and they started to avoid her. My younger kid was not privy, but my mother-in-law became very annoyed with our youngest, and didn’t like her coming to visit all the time in her room. We felt very bad, because our youngest very much loved her.

My wife had attained power of attorney, and it was all discussed with her. My wife was essentially her guardian at that point, making decisions regarding her health care and her finances, and she wasn’t having it. She said she wanted to move out. So, we worked with her Medicaid case manager and found her a place, an adult family home. She’s since moved along to somewhere else. She didn’t like those rules, either. She’s actually living more independently right now, contrary to her doctor’s instructions.

We have (no relationship), unfortunately. I guess the hardest punch I took was when I was director of a nonprofit that has a Facebook page. When I left, they posted something announcing my replacement, which was a great choice. And on that Facebook post, she commented something very negative about me. I had to block her on Facebook, so maybe she’s going around posting elsewhere, I don’t know. And nobody said anything to me, but that was a real gut punch. And she said some really horrible things.

Other family members report back that she’s very angry with us. It’s heartbreaking. I mean, there were two moments in our life that were very, very difficult. And she was there. She dropped whatever was going on in her life to be there for us. And, I had always said to her, and to my wife, that I am comfortable taking care of her for the rest of her life. Sadness. I feel like I’ll always be in her debt.