It is blue week in France for the aged. My husband died 30th September 2018. 

His favourite flower.

It is pure coincidence that I am writing this on the anniversary of Mr G’s death. I have just watched part of a TV documentary (French) where the presenters give the ‘carer’ a day off, a woman in her 50’s who has given up everything to become the sole carer of her 87 year old father. The strain is telling on her health, my situation in 2017.

I am currently trying to piece together a book, of which the main theme is longevity and how the whole ‘developed’ world is coping with the age imbalance, reduced birth rate, the number of years people work not realising enough in taxes and pensions for a longer life expectancy. Japan has one of the worst problems, and they have resorted to immigrants, from countries which include Senegal, to look after their old people. This has had political repercussions, the word ‘immigrant’ is a blue touch paper, over the years it has become synonymous with people who come for criminal activities and to ‘sponge’ off the state, well fuelled by social media. Japan, for the first time ever, has hard right politicians, to fight immigration.

Enough of the politics. I wrote a blog ‘Making that decision’, which was giving up your independence before circumstances forced you to. Probably two years later I did a follow up on ‘How are they making out?’ Now I have my ‘case studies’ on those who have opted to NOT go into any sort of care home. They have all (had in one case) sufficient money. One couple have given me a bit of a shock, the ones who argued the toss over their future round my kitchen table. They have bought a flat, with ‘panic button’ assistance. Their daughter lives just up the road. The wife is not happy, pines for her past life. She hated the idea of leaving France, but worse was scared that he would die first. Now, e-mail, grateful daughter near but she ‘takes too many holidays’. I see a bad scenario for the daughter if Dad dies; I think Mum will become totally dependent, a hard row to hoe for her family.

Another couple insisted on staying in their home till the end, necessitating a succession of live in care, the Agency was presumably reputable, but a daughter bore the brunt of sorting troubles and carers leaving, and her mother spent her last two years totally bed-ridden.  A single friend is living in her big house with live in care, last time I visited my friend had to shuffle to open the door, current carer deaf. The final couple have a mountain of problems between them, but are staying put, getting and paying for care is a nightmare.

I have shot myself in the foot. Our mothers insisted on ‘duty’ calls, then told us off. I made a decision never to inflict that on my family. So, for three weeks tired, ill, lonely and frightened I wish I was not so stupidly proud. What IS the answer? 

The Gardener

A Moodscope member