out of time. Mum at end stage.

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I wrote this the other day, didn't finish it, still haven't been able to have a solid nights sleep, only some broken sleep, lots of staying awake all night weeping, finally curling up with dog and hot water bottles in the early am after I've fed her, just to be woken by the phone by 9-9:30am. Barely eaten anything in days, nothing at all today.

Brother hasn't lifted a finger since she passed away. While I tidied stuff away, made sure Uncle Mike had coffee, and prepped the room for him to see mum, got some hugs and comfort and cried with him a little, and we shared the gifts I'd managed to buy for mum and the pets on the 23rd, but never got to show her - all I asked of Sam was for him and Mike to sort out something for us all to eat, whether it was beans on toast, or local takeaway, whatever, I didn't care at all, had no appetite, but I wasn't cooking, and we all needed to eat something.

He did go up the road and get a burger and fries for us, I managed half a burger and a few fries, didn't care. I kept the laundry going, since there's still so much laundry left to wash and dry, he said to leave the washing up to him, that Christmas day, the 25th, so I did. Going up the road had made him cough badly, so I'd given him a puff on my inhaler, found some vicks vapour rub and cough syrup, told him not to go out in the cold unless he absolutely had to, especially not to just randomly search for cough syrup on boxing day when everywhere is closed. When the St Peter's community care nurse called the landline and spoke to me on the 26th and suggested the other services they can offer to help, I made a point of giving her Sam's mobile number and asking if the team could check on him too, since he wouldn't call and ask for help himself, or answer the landline, but needed the support as much as I did.

Told Sam we both needed to take it easy, that it would take a few days just to recover from the physical exhaustion, broken sleep, not eating well or regularly enough, and trauma of the intense process we'd gone through in the last days and weeks, let alone the grief, and the mountain of things that still need to be sorted around the house/finances etc. That I was physically, mentally and emotionally wiped out, and we'd focus on the important things and recovering while eveywhere was closed/the bank holidays, now that mum didn't need us throughout the day and night, hopefully we could rest and recover enough to face that, since I knew the banking/death certificate/funeral arranging/notifiying everyone whirlwind hadn't even begun yet.

Apparently, he took that to mean "leave everything to Adorabelle again". I had been keeping the laundry ticking over, feeding and maintaining the pets, bar the cat that Sam has been feeding, fussing, and encouraging to come in the house, and I've said is his responsibility to look after if she's moving in. He not only didn't check on me, or do the things he was doing before while mum was ill, like doing the parrots food and water daily to take at least that task off my plate - he still hadn't even done the washing up that had just kept piling up he'd said he'd do days ago. Nor anything besides stay in his neckbeard nest with the cat, and leaving it all on me again.

He makes sure he's fed, and that cat. Has left me and the other animals to it, and after a sleepless night, I had to wash up some cups, teaspoons and a foodbowl for Pixie, because there's literally nothing clean left now for me to even make my coffee. I still didn't yell at him. I made some hot water bottles since my room is unheated now, got Pixie and I snuggled under blankets with the hot water bottles, tried to sleep, but was woken at 9:30 by the funeral company asking me to come to the office to sort mum's funeral things out. I said I couldn't yet, that I was still physically, mentally and emotionally wiped, hadn't even notified everyone yet, my GP isn't even back until Jan 2nd, although my GP practice had another GP call me back since they could hear I was a mess and couldn't wait til next week.

By then it's about 10:30am today, I call Sam downstairs, remind him about the washing up, that I'm now getting calls about arranging the funeral, still have people to notify etc, to call to have the hospital bed removed and other mobility equipment so I can even access her room properly to sort through their things, and that he hadn't even touched the washing up yet. He turned into a 44 year old sulky, pouty child, and said "I will do it!", asked if he'd fed the parrots yesterday, he said he didn't think so, and I said he'd just been leaving me to handle it all again, when he knows how exhausted and on the edge I am and have been, while he's been eating and doing nothing but resting and sleeping. That he didn't even do any of the household tasks he used to do before mum's diagnosis, let alone anything else that needs sorting, including the washing up he'd kept ignoring, then thrown his toys out of the pram when I reminded him - but come on!!! I snapped at him, and warned him not to push me any more, that he knows he hasn't bothered with me or the other animals since Christmas day, has left more on my shoulders, not helped ease it, while I showed concern for him and tried to keep accessing professional help for us both.

I asked him to please pack away the christmas decorations he'd put up, back when we'd hoped to have a last mini christmas with mum and Uncle Mike, and mum was still coming downstairs. Many are very old, sentimental, were important to mum, and are important to me. I said I'd do it, but because he'd put them up, he'd remember which boxes etc mum had packed the nativity scene etc in, and could put them back in their boxes, and storage totes, to be organised/sorted through later. A 10-15 minute job when done carefully, that's all.

When I came back through to get more water and maybe some dry bread before taking meds, he was angrily and casually tossing these fragile, breakable, sentimental, and not replaceable things into the boxes from far away, not wrapping them or caring at all. I snapped to be careful, that most are fragile, and he said "doesn't matter, we'll never use them again anyway".

I lost it. Really yelled at him that time that it was bad enough losing dad, then mum, and facing losing the house and the pets, and having to navigate it without his help, him not even doing basic chores anymore, let alone helping me arrange/sort anything, now he was going to break the otherwise valueless, but important to ME items?? Because I'd asked him to finally do SOMETHING??

I had to go to my room and literally scream and sob into a pillow, leaving Pixie in the kitchen, him in the living room. I hate losing my temper in front of her at all, let alone losing it like that, but it was just so damn callous and childish, and I don't think I'll be able to forgive him easily. Definitely not right now. He hasn't cared about me or the pets, or mum and dad's things, or what needs doing, despite seeing and being told how run ragged I've been, and still am.

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I've now been arranging for people who may be able to look after, foster, or adopt the animals if I wind up in the psych hospital again, or worse. Everytime I think I'm starting to get a handle on things, it only gets worse, and more and more blows keep raining down on me. Professionals were lining up help, but it's all too late, far too late. We're screwed when it comes to the house and finances, and even the funeral now.

The second funeral company call came after this blow up. A different woman - the first one I spoke to on Christmas Day who had told me not to worry, that they could look after her, they know how complicated it is when people pass without wills etc, and how it takes time to sort out - she hasn't had the guts to call herself.

Instead a third woman from the same company called, said that since there was an outstanding balance on dad's funeral since I first arranged the funeral and the down payment - a good £1,700, came out of mum and dad's joint account, that they wouldn't be able to arrange mum's funeral, but they'd "look after your mum" (read: stick her in cold storage) until another funeral company could come take her from them. I was breaking down again in disbelief and shock, trying to take notes, saying that they know dad and then mum passed without wills, own their house, so they could always come after us for the payments later, why agree to take mum, only to hit me with this two days later? Said that there was enough in their bank accounts to cover both funerals, but that we're waiting on help from social services/St Peter's Hospice to navigate it and can't touch their accounts now until it's sorted legally, which I don't know how to even begin doing without a lot more help even uncovering the paperwork for the house/bank accounts etc, and brother and I both on benefits now and have been full time caregiving, neither have more than £300 in our own bank accounts, so even together we couldn't afford another down payment to another funeral home, and would they even accept when we now have this debt to Thomas Davis outstanding for dad's funeral? She said "oh, we won't tell them", as if that's reassuring, but was icy cold.

I asked about being able to collect dad's ashes, his and mum's personal effects, and she said they wouldn't do anything with them, that we can collect them when we're ready, but that we'd need to find another company to take care of mum's funeral and collect her from them. I asked how much time I had to sort this out, that I had been handling the medical and personal care side of things and leaving shopping/banking/online ordering to Sam, as mum and dad had towards the end too, I'd trusted him with my own card and pin when he began doing the shopping after dad broke his hip and my agoraphobia got bad, had taken everything I had in me just to arrange dad's funeral, then mum's care, and had stupidly hoped my brother was handling it.

She didn't care. I dumped it on my brother, told him that we're really up the creek now, and he needs to gather all the paoerwork relating to mum and dad, their accounts, utilities for the house etc, bills, ANYTHING, all the paperwork that isn't his own, into a file I gave him as I'd been begging him to do for months, but that he had no more time to lie around, because it's too late now, and we at least need to have the paperwork accessible to go through with the St Peter's/Social workers/Whoever needs it, and took control of the bank cards I could find, apart from any I don't know about, told him not to spend a penny using any of their accounts, that it needs to be legally settled first, and that instead of helping, he'd now landed me another massive blow when I was already at breaking point.

Finding out who may be able and willing to take in the animals if I do crack up, or don't make it. Told him to leave me alone otherwise, nothing good can come of him talking to me now, or expecting a pat on the back for cleaning out the parrots and sweeping the floor after leaving me to drown in this alone. Again.

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I don't think I'm a bad person. Parents raised me with principles and ethics, I was always a hard worker, keen to learn, loved animals- we used to have a lot more of them, since parents first business was aviaries and aquatics, after dad was in the Army and merchant Navy. They ran it together from a coachhouse in the back garden of the four bed house they could afford to buy on their combined salaries in those days, a house and coach house that would be worth a fortune now, BTW. Eventually opened a fish and aviaries store, we lived in the flat above the store, my mum's parents had the granny annex on the bottom level, then it became a general pet store, way back in the 80s before I was born, but I remember running around the store, elements of the flat, visiting granny downstairs, and the semi feral cat colony my parents ended up caring for, one of whom gave birth to a kitten in front of me before I had any idea what any of that was.

They eventually had to close the business and sell up, local pet shops and high street stores closures made that inevitable as supermarkets became the norm and stocked pet food etc, and they moved to this council house when I was 5-6.

It used to be in much better condition and loved and cared for, but parents were older already when they had us, and we had a lot of pets, took in lots of waifs and strays, grew up being taught to look up what info I needed in books long before internet access was in every home, and to use their reference books, they wouldn't just answer my questions about everything, they taught me how to learn. We had to learn all about an animals care and habitat needs before even considering getting it, and if we couldn't provide what the animal needed, for its lifetime, then the answer would be no, it wouldn't be right to get it. But we had a lot of the usual childhood pets, plus raised a baby pigeon, took in two cats from that feral colony when they moved here - they'd called the RSPCA many times, then told them that they were moving, would be able to take two of the cats with them, but the RSPCA would need to catch and help the rest/deal with the animal hoarder who was getting then dumping the poor animals, since they wouldn't be there to feed them, tame and try to rehome them anymore.

I had depression, low self esteem, low level but manageable anxiety from my teens, but I left home at 16, studied, worked, was a good care assistant, later a good support worker, loved my family and friends, and always tried to do the right thing, even when I wasn't always right. But I didn't steal, cheat, abuse anyone, or anything. Just had a mental illness that I worked so hard, every time, to get through, and learned so much through therapy about the underlying causes, that like many who go into the caring professions and want to study psychology, you get into it when trying to understand and fix your own issues. I gained so much from it, I genuinely wanted to help others, the way it had helped me, and I met some amazing people through it.

I fought so hard to get better. I sincerely did. But kept getting knock back after knock back, until I gave up, didn't want to fight the systems anymore, didn't feel worthy of it, knew I wasn't stable enough to return to work with my mental health as fragile as it was, so just gave up fighting and hid away from it all. It's like the awful experiments they would do on dogs to discover the psychological theory of "learned helplessness". I may explain this wrong or get some details wrong, but they were awful. Put dogs into wire cages, and zapped the cages with electric shocks. Dogs would do everything they could to escape the shocks, the cages, fight to get out, until they found it impossible, then would give up, resign themselves to not being able to escape the pain anymore, even once the door was opened again.


All animals can experience this, humans included. I gave up fighting on my own behalf. I only stayed around because I knew it would break my parents hearts if I opted out, then I finally reached out for help for my own mental health again, because I knew I had to, to get me through caring for them, and I could do it for their sake, and fight the systems on their behalf, but not for myself anymore. I trust my GP, and many of the nurses and hospice workers I've met have been wonderful and empathetic, and I'd hate to hurt my best friend too - or leave Pixie, even though she deserves better than I can give her now. My bestie would take her, and she adores him too. He says I'm welcome there too, but I can't be a burden spinster aunt he has to care for, that isn't fair, although I love him dearly and love that he would.

I did try. I gave it my all to care for mum and dad, and tried to do them proud. But without them, facing losing the pets and the the house, in the state it's in now, instead of the fixing it up and potentially fostering dogs, and maybe training a search a rescue dog one day, gradually processing all the traumas and sorting through mum and dad's belongings with professional help, it's all too little, too late now. Funny how inheriting a house might be what sends me over the edge. Because I'll no longer be entitled to certain benefits or help if we technically inherit property and a few thousand quid. It'll have to be sold off to split the value of the house between brother and I, and while I didn't necessarily want to live here forever, or live with my bro forever, realistically, we're now going to have to clear it fast, use the professionals to try to help sort the paperwork, and sell it to a flipper for less than it would be worth, since we won't have enough left over from the funerals to cover utilities, let alone fix the problems, or DIY it, and I can't do it all alone, or having to instruct my brother anymore.

I tried to warn him, I tried encouraging him to access the sympathetic GPs at his surgery, or even switching to mine, where he at least already knows a lot about the situation and my mental health, who could then get him referred to the right people, the right diagnosis, whatever benefits he would have been entitled to, then be able to return to work when he was ready with the right support, and without any employer being able to discriminate against him because of his diagnoses.

He ignored me, refused, buried his head in the sand and left me to do it all, and expected me to take over caring for him now I guess, but I can't.

 

[Naughts]

One day at a time. Be kind to yourself. Take the help that you need.

My understanding is that benefits depend on income and savings so check with the hospice people - inheriting the house may not alter anything.

You have done brilliantly. You can do this. Just one day at a time. X

 

[jaylach]

This is going to sound SO cold but really isn't. My mother died of Lewy Body Dementia. It is a very nasty disease that affects both types of neurons, cogent and motor. It is like having Parkinson's and Altimeters at the same time. It takes a LONG time to kill. Part of me is ashamed for this but, in a way, it was a relief when she died as she no longer had to suffer. And suffer she did. Sometimes death can be a release more than a bane.

 

[seangee]

You have already proved you are way stronger than you give yourself credit for. Your mum was lucky to have you around.
For the next few weeks it will just be a case of one foot in front of the other...

 

[Essjay]

If you haven't already contacted them, Citizens Advice Bureau has law experts in every area. For example, when my son was very ill they filled in a PIP application form for him, he just had to talk and they wrote down what he said in proper language.

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I managed to finally eat something last night and got some sleep for most of the night I think. Still physically, emotionally and mentally wiped - have had to deal with a few phone calls today, fortunately St Peter's social work team are coming Tuesday morning to begin helping untangle this nightmare.

My bestie called me too, obviously realised I was still a wreck - I still feel emotionally and physically wrecked, I really did drive myself into the ground this last few weeks especially. Managed to eat at like 9:30pm last night and keep it down, but not so far this morning, and was just organising some stuff because the fact we're going to have to sell the house ASAP is definitely hitting me, friend agrees. Bro still doesn't get it, and I can't be his support worker, and staying here long term probably wouldn't be good for either of us. He needs to be forced out of the (neckbeard) nest, literally, and he just doesn't get the realities of managing the bills even in a rented flat, alone a house, and the financial implications.

This is proper adulting stuff that is above my head, that we need legal, medical and social work advice to navigate, and he's still stupidly thinking we don't have to rehome or at least foster most of the animals, thinks it's just a case of buying food, not thinking about the other costs involved, not to mention time and attention they deserve.

I'll be keeping Pixie no matter what. My bestie has said of course he'd look after her (and me! Much as I don't want to be a spinster aunt he has to look after, bless him for being willing) and he owns his own place, said I can store stuff in his basement if needed while we clear the house/figure out selling it/what the next steps are for each of us. He's also willing to come for a weekend/welcome Pix and I for a break as long as we need, which is amazing of him, and I'd be lost without his sanity and emotional and practical support! But his place is a three hour drive each way, so I definitely don't want to ask him to come more often than needed.

Brother might grasp the realities of the bills/having to sell the house more once social work team are working with us, but I can't focus on that or him now.

The main thing is that there's somewhere for Pixie and I in an emergency, and with St Peter's social work team/my GP/Citizen's advice we might be able to buy a few months here to get things sorted out as best as possible, clear the house and rehome mum's Hahn's macaw (it's the best decision for the bird, he isn't boned to me, unlike my parrot Oscar, and I might be able to find a foster for Oscar so I can keep him), and my friend here is gonna help me sort out the fish tanks/pond fish/rehoming/selling the equipment etc, and has also offered practical help sorting the house.

Another friend nearby and her wife are also willing to look after Pixie in an emergency, or for the funeral, or until my bestie could collect her for me (thinking of if I do lose my mind again, and wind up in hospital or something), meet up with me and Pix, and their dog for walks, and to help me make lists/organise what needs to get sorted, they're wonderful people, and have been such an amazing help and support since losing dad, even before that, after he broke his hip 2021. They were very fond of him, and have been lovely with me, I really like and am grateful for them.

Was trying to do too much too soon again today, had to pause to write this because I haven't eaten yet since last night, was dashing about, and made myself sick again. But trying to keep myself together, especially for the dogs sake. Can't do it all in one day, this is gonna take time to sort out, can't rely on brother to even get it, let alone help, so will do what I can as I can, lean hard on the professionals, and less hard but gratefully on the friends and support I do have, both the ones mentioned above, and the ones here! <3

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I needed enough rest, meals, and some unbroken sleep before my brain could kick in again! My brother started making efforts again after a couple of arguments to pull his weight in the house a little more, be a bit more considerate, and let me get some proper sleep, and after I'd finally caught a couple of more solid chunks of sleep without being woken by a shrilling phone and new problems (story for another time, can't remember whether I covered it in the thread yet, still scatter-brained, but there's a problem with the funeral company since we hadn't finished paying off dad's funeral yet, and can't at the moment - mum and dad's joint account/own accounts will cover costs for both, but we can't touch those accounts until it's legally settled).

But last night, after another busy day, after advice from you guys here in the threat and pms, some talking with friends and family on the phone, I feel reassured that this isn't something that will be resolved overnight. It's gonna take a long time to sort all the financial and legal matters, but there's help out there for people in our sort of situation to figure it all out. Will be leaning on those professionals who know what they're doing, taking better care of myself so I hopefully don't keep hitting those crisis points where I feel desperate, alone, and stuck. I do have some really solid friends and family, even if they live a distance away and are only able to help by phone/online at the moment, I can get more day to day practical help, and be more patient with my brother when I'm not sleep-deprived, exhausted and at the end of my tether!

I'd been organising and making lists, which also meant going through my mum's filofax, which was both heart-breaking, seeing how she began so super organised and detailed, the way she always was when she was younger, then her handwriting deteriorating and record keeping trailing off over the last few years. Partly as a result of aging, but she was also experiencing short term memory problems and general age related cognitive decline. But there were nice things in there too, that brought back good memories, and reminded me that even if my skills are rusty, and I've been pretty burned out lately, am grieving hard, and struggle with anxiety and depression - I'm not crazy, incapable, or wanting to make drastic, rushed decisions out of fear and panic, and shouldn't have to.

I am on waiting lists for more therapy, St Peter's Hospice also offer bereavement and emotional support for caregivers and families of patients even after the patient has passed away, as well as a social work team for navigating this sort of mess when people pass without a will - and I have a brilliant GP who has been in my corner since we lost dad, and can help supply medical evidence for whichever authorities need to see it, and can keep referring me for further help, since the waiting lists I'm on for mental health help to process the traumas I had even before our double bereavement this year are long, and we're having help thrown at us now, given how hard all of this has been.

Told my brother last night that he and I both need our individual mental and physical health taken care of. That takes time and outside help, and we have a lot of resources here in the UK that we haven't even had chance to access yet. Mum's decline was so fast, and we were both struggling with our own issues while also doing our very best to take care of both of our parents in our childhood home.

Feeling pressured to rush and sort everything out, now now now was only making my mental health worse, and these things take a long time to sort out even under the best of circumstances.

There's no reason we should be forced to sell our home, when neither of us have a solid back up plan or place to live, just because we inherit a house that needs so much work, and there is a lot of help available here for people, especially when neither of us has much income of our own, no savings of our own, haven't legally inherited anything yet, and the money mum and dad did have wouldn't go very far once their funeral costs are paid for, let alone utilities etc.

Tuesday the 2nd, we have two social workers from the St Peter's team coming to help us begin untangling the nightmare, and I have a phone appointment with my GP. Until then, I intend to try to rest and relax as much as possible this weekend. Do some self care, and do some pottering type cleaning and sorting out the fish tanks. They've been too neglected, and since it's a bank holiday weekend the phone won't be calling me away all the time. I can take Pixie out on some walks between rain showers, meet up with a neighbour friend or two to walk our dogs, chat, get some in person emotional support, and they've offered practical help too.

I'm sorry for flipping out before. I don't want to harm myself, I want both myself and my brother to be okay in the long term, and that's gonna mean taking better care of ourselves in the short term too. We can pull together and get along okay when we're not both exhausted, mentally fried and more short tempered as a result! I know all our parents wanted for us was for us to each be happy, and I promised my dad as he was passing away that I'd take care of mum, and that I'd get better myself (from the depression). I've kept that first promise to the very best of my ability, and I want to honour the second one too.

I was reacting out of fear, exhaustion on every level, panic, and burned out physically, mentally and emotionally, and there's no way we should be forced rehome our animals, to sell and split the assets of our home just to cover legal costs etc. That wouldn't be right, and there are resources out there that we haven't had access to before, but desperately need now, and it'll all take time. In that time, which would take at least a year or two, I can gradually work through sorting the house/parents belongings/the gardens at a reasonable pace, to make the place liveable for us, the pets we have, and the pets we inherited, and honour our parents memories at the same time. I bought two small trees for Christmas for parents that I want to plant in their garden, a magnolia for mum, and a hawthorn for my dad.

We don't want to live together forever, or just get by scraping to cover the utilities and not able to afford to keep the heating on, we shouldn't have to, and both we and our parents paid into the system our whole lives. We're not scroungers, but I am currently too disabled to return to work, brother wants to return to work soon, but has also been a caregiver for both my parents and especially since dad broke his hip shortly after covid closed my brother's workplace, he's on benefits right now too - and we need help to sort it all out, and even getting some help to figure it all out will take time. I want to work on recovering from this, on my mental illnesses, do some volunteer work, and when ready, return to work, even if it's in a different field. I'm not there yet, but I managed to (just about) hold it together throughout this, the doctors, nurses and hospice workers all said I was doing a great job of taking care of mum, and I know I used to be good at what I did. I had my confidence badly knocked, but it doesn't mean I can't heal from that.

Yes, I was burned out and exhausted, and I'm still not firing on all cylinders by any means. But I am thinking more clearly now. I don't want to stay buried in the past forever, preserve the house like a shrine, or live with my brother long term, or even necessarily stay in this house for the rest of my life. But for long enough to make sure my brother and I will both be okay? Absolutely I do, we should be able to, and we'll figure out a way to do it and cover the bills, without being forced to rehome pets, give up my pets/hobby like the fish, or worrying that either of us will have no where else to go. I got through losing both parents in the same year. I can get through this too, and I will.

Thank you, everyone who read through this, replied, sent prayers, thoughts or private messages, and just anyone who cared enough to read and think of us- thank you. I joined the forum to learn more about fish, and while I certainly learned a ton here, I made some genuine friends here too, and I can't thank you all enough!

Will start a new journal thread when I sort out a transfer tank soon - something more upbeat, fish-related, and happier since I won't have to rehome the fish I love!

 

[Essjay]

I'm so glad to hear you are coming through this. Yes, lean on every expert you can find, they'll know things you haven't even thought of. With their help you'll be able to spend more time on you.

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I'm so glad to hear you are coming through this. Yes, lean on every expert you can find, they'll know things you haven't even thought of. With their help you'll be able to spend more time on you.

You've been a wonderful shoulder for me for a long time now, AND you helped me tons when I first joined the forum and was still a brand new baby beginner to the hobby! It's thanks to you that I still have a cherry shrimp colony

I'm sure I'm going to hit plenty more nasty bumps, this isn't going to be an easy process, and grief does tend to come in waves, doesn't it. I'm still really tired today, but certainly much calmer mentally, realised I was letting depression's negative thinking patterns and the hypervigilant, crisis mode to crisis mode phase I've been in for so long now send me spiralling, thinking of worst case scenarios. But the worst has happened already. Now it's a matter of paperwork, logistics, hassle and annoyance, but that's all manageable, can only be done in bite sized chunks anyway, and I'll make sure to get proper help with that, along with the medical, psychological and emotional support needed to wade through it all.

At least for this weekend, I'm going to have a long hot bath, walk the puppers, try to eat small regular meals when I feel able, and not fret about the finances or house stuff yet - that stuff only begins on Tuesday, and I'll be better equipped to begin if I'm rested and have looked after myself some more, and downtime with the Pixie, pottering with the fish tanks is I'm sure exactly what my doctor would order!

Much love and gratitude to you guys, sincerely. I'll pop on more when I can, and not just when I'm having a crisis or meltdown, I promise x

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

I'm dreading the paperwork parts of this, and the hoop jumping no doubt required.

I stupidly left sorting bills and finances to my brother, even though he's not exactly reliable at the best of times, because of my agoraphobia getting worse (sometimes I'm not so bad, others, like after dad passed, I can barely leave the house, depends how the depression and anxiety interact, whether someone is with me, if I'm going somewhere open like the park or out to walk the dogs with my friend - fine. Going into the city centre, crowds of people, officials looking at me and judging me, being trapped at the back of a store and crowds of people in the street or on a bus? nightmare scenario where I'm terrified of having a panic attack and not being able to escape from others seeing me like that).

I was pretty surprised neither mum nor dad made wills years go. Before mum's short term memory problems/general cognitive decline became obvious, she was the super organised and responsible one. She used to be a secretary/note-taker, knew short hand, kept all their important documents filed away, made sure all the family pets were fully vaccinated, microchipped, appointments for them and us as kids/my dad appointments were up to date, etc. Very organised, kept records, hand written lists of everything, was the one to keep their address book updated, shop for and send cards for family and friends etc. Exactly the sort of person to have sorted out their wills many years ago, but all of that stuff had gradually slipped over the last 5-10 years.

Years ago she'd converted the smallest bedroom/box room into her office/study, with a desktop computer, a full size filing cabinet where I assume all the important documents are, but haven't been through it yet since I haven't been able to access, and I always respected mum and dad's possessions and privacy anyway. That's how they both liked things, so even though I dislike clutter, it's their house, their belongings, and especially since I didn't live here again until covid/dad's broken hip, it wasn't my business until I needed to give up my flat and move back into their downstairs spare junk/meant to be a den room, and I had to try to whittle my own belongings down, only sleeping on a single bed when staying here, then clearing out the spare junk in that room so I could save a few items of furniture of my own I loved, and getting rid of a lot of my other stuff, or storing it in totes behind their fridge, like most of my DIY and gardening stuff.

Over the last few years especially, mum used the study room less and less, and it became a general storage space too, and is thick with dust, and mould growing across the ceiling (that side of the house suffers cold and damp problems, same as "my" room downstairs, although obviously I cleaned and decorated this room, so there's no visible mould, but I'm sure there's a damp problem with the house itself on that side, it's on that side of the kitchen too.

Dad was responsible, and I think most bills were set up to come out of his, or their joint account, but he wasn't good at filing, organising or keeping paperwork - what I found piled in the kitchen I put into a box file. Then they each had their own accounts, and would make agreements between the two of them about bigger purchases for the house, like a new washing machine or whatever. Saw them do that many times, where say dad would pay, tell mum her half, and she'd write him a cheque or give him cash for her half. She said every married couple has their own ways of doing things, and this way seemed to work for them for 57 years.
Times I've stayed here, like when I gave up my flat and moved back in after dad covid and dad breaking his hip, I made my own arrangement with dad, he suggested £50 a week towards utility costs, so I just set up a standing order for that to be transferred from my account to his. He made a similar arrangement I think with my brother to contribute towards costs, except my brother has always lived here, and I'd hear dad would have to nag him at times to pay up back when bro was working, then once bro lost his job to covid and went onto jobseekers allowance, so maybe he paid him cash rather than a standing arrangement. I didn't get involved, it was between my dad and brother, so I didn't pry into the amount or how he paid, when.

Any other personal purchases we each used our own cards/accounts for. Fortunately, dad retained his mental sharpness right up to the end, at 85, and was incredibly physically capable too - even after he broke his hip and needed a hip replacement, he pushed himself far too hard trying to regain his mobility as much as possible. They used to tease me calling me "nurse [my name]", because my main job was stopping him overdoing things, still thinking he should be able to climb ladders and do the same kinds of things he did when he was 40, and would need to be reminded how well he was doing for a man his age who'd broken a hip, but was still home and able to manage stairs at 85!


My parents trusted both of us with their cards and PINs to make online orders, or when I'd go do the house shopping for them during covid (dad trusted me to food shop after going with me a few times to make sure I'd get the products he preferred, lol) because he knew I can cook, have lived alone/with friends etc since I was young, plus I'd often have to do similar things when shopping for residents as a support worker, buying for a few different people, separating the purchases at checkout, then paying with each person's cash, keeping their receipts and change in separate envelopes so their finances were carefully tracked and couldn't be abused. Or if someone did, they would quickly be caught. So I'd do the house shopping using dad's card, mum would write a separate list for anything she wanted and I'd use her card for that, and anything I was getting for me, I'd put on mine, keeping receipts for all.

When dad passed, mum and I were both so depressed and grief stricken. Bro whenever asked said he felt numb, but we all process grief differently, and especially if bro is on the autism spectrum, as he and I both suspect, plus my dad being the strong, capable and not good at verbalising his emotions type too, I didn't really expect him to break down sobbing much either. I did hear him cry when he called as mum and I were on our way back to the hospital and bro called to say dad had passed.

Dad passed Feb 7th, and I didn't cancel my standing order into his account until sometime in June or July I think it was. Mum and bro were still dealing with the post, I'd asked him if he could sort out the bills/banking stuff/all financials and paperwork relating to mum, dad, the house, into a specific box file and accordian file I had, and placed in the living room for that purpose, and not to touch dad's accounts until the estate stuff was settled and mum and officially inherited everything from dad, since I think if one spouse passes without a will, their spouse inherits everything. Said we could sort it all out later, but at least keep it all together. It isn't.

I had to do all the arrangements for dad's funeral, which I found incredibly hard... I adored my dad, he adored me, and him no longer being in this world broke me, it really did. But every single decision, down to the flowers, plus notifying everyone, all fell to me. Mum was in no state to do it, and I don't blame her at all there, he was her world for a lot longer, she'd already been having short term memory problems for a few years by that point, although she aced the dementia test I'd arranged, and she was good at putting on a normal "for visitors" face, downplaying or forgetting her issues like her slipping continence, or passing blood with her stool.

Of course, now I know that she must have already had pretty advanced colon cancer, perhaps had already spread to her liver by that point. But we weren't aware of that yet, especially since her decline was so drastic after dad's passing, and docs/diabetes and aging care nurses agreed with me that it's hard to separate out symptoms from general age related decline, and the incredible grief and depression that comes with losing your life partner. Of course she was extra tired and didn't want to get up in the mornings. Dad wasn't there to make her coffee and a bacon sandwich, and spend time with the way he always was before, and my doing those things for her wasn't the same.

As her health got worse and worse, her diabetes going way out of control and sending her hypo a lot, especially very early in the am, when I'd be catching her slipping into hypos and having to drag her out of them again, she had asked for me to deal with all her medical stuff, like the phone calls, making appointments etc, and we got that put on record with her surgery and later the hospital that although I never had power of attorney, medical or otherwise, she was happy to, and wanted me to, be the main point of contact and to share her medical info with brother and I, and always wanted one of us to be at any appointments she had, since she knew her short term memory problems meant she often forgot things, and might not remember important details.

I now suspect that her reliance on her long term memory, routines and habits really helped to mask other problems that I might have otherwise picked up on sooner. Doctors/nurses have since said that even if I'd somehow picked up on the blood in the stool months earlier, it's unlikely it would have changed anything, but it's hard not to look back and find ways to blame yourself, things you wish you'd done, or not done, and second guessing everything. I know I did the very best I could to take care of both of them. But even though I rushed straight to hospital with mum and brother as soon as we got the call from them, we'd had the news that they couldn't save him, and we all cried together and got to say our goodbyes - I had to bring mum home sometime around 1am because she couldn't sit in a hospital chair all night, needed to go home because of her age/diabetes/rods and pins in her spine etc, but I'd hoped we'd be back in time to see dad again before he passed, and I'd wanted to be with him. Left bro at hospital with dad while I took mum home, and I wish so much I'd asked Sam to take mum home, and stayed with dad myself. I'll always regret that. He slipped away as we were getting into a taxi to take us back to the hospital the next day.

After dad passed, we all just stumbled through day by day, in a haze of grief and depression. I got through arranging the funeral, planning and notifying everyone as best I could, consulted mum about what we thought dad would have wanted, but most of it, she didn't want to give an opinion on, we'd just cry together and hug, and brother had no input at all, even when I asked, said he didn't know/didn't mind, didn't have an opinion on music, or flowers or anything. I did a reading, which was so hard, but meant something to me, and I hoped worked as coming from us as a family.

I still have the notebook I used to arrange all of that, including the costs for the funeral from when the director came to the house, and the down payment alone was around £1,700, the total - even with the most basic and simple coffin, one family car, cremation and service - was only just shy of £5000. Bro and mum together sorted the down payment, and I asked brother to sort out the next payments, especially to do so before mum passed, since dad's estate wasn't officially settled yet, having passed without a will, and to find out about if was okay for mum to still use their joint account, since I don't know the legalities around that when a spouse passes without a will and the account has both their names on it, but especially not to touch dad's own accounts until it was all officially sorted and settled. He said something about how he'd have to go into a branch with dad's death certificate and photo ID of his own, so I was like okay, do it then. I'd arranged for several copies of his death certificate at the time.

Since found that he hadn't done any of that, and now that mum has also passed without a will, and I had to deal with an icy cold funeral company that we owe money to for dad's funeral, and collected mum's body on Christmas Day, saying they won't handle mum's funeral since we still haven't paid off dad's yet, and I'd have to find another funeral company to take mum and make arrangements with that other company (which will also require a down payment we don't have until any of the legal and financial stuff is settled) - and that led to a the first huge fight with my brother as he left all this to fall onto me, when I was busy grieving dad while needing to do more and more of mum's personal care and health management, being the sole liaison for all of the doctors, nurses, St Peter's hospice etc, all while also trying to manage the house and pet care.... and now I need to also deal with all this financial and legal stuff since he won't/hasn't/can't do it.

I try to be understanding and patient, and even dad had commented that bro and I were getting along better in recent years... because I was more patient and understanding of him, but also not depending on his help at all, and was independent myself as much as possible - until my own breakdown, then being a caregiver for mum and dad while struggling with my own mental illnesses. I appreciated that bro would fetch shopping, and do chores if asked, but especially towards the end when things got harder and harder, I've had less and less patience for his slacking, and leaving it all to me to sort out.

 

[Alice B]

Your situation has made me address mine better, I have 3 daughters, youngest is my executor, current will was written in the hospital, but I have distributed most of what each will inherit to them gradually, and will probably sell my house this year and get something more affordable. I have a power of attorney on file with the hospital I was in during November, and a copy here. The original. I know my daughters don't get along, especially my twins. The youngest has a more level head and can hold her own, but I will try to make it easy for her. This is really hard for you I know. With siblings there is not a clear line of authority or responsibility. And whoever steps up gets it all dumped on them. You are in my thoughts. Hope 2024 will see you get more assistance from the various groups that are supposed to help out and get you some support.

 

[AdoraBelle Dearheart]

Your situation has made me address mine better, I have 3 daughters, youngest is my executor, current will was written in the hospital, but I have distributed most of what each will inherit to them gradually, and will probably sell my house this year and get something more affordable. I have a power of attorney on file with the hospital I was in during November, and a copy here. The original. I know my daughters don't get along, especially my twins. The youngest has a more level head and can hold her own, but I will try to make it easy for her. This is really hard for you I know. With siblings there is not a clear line of authority or responsibility. And whoever steps up gets it all dumped on them. You are in my thoughts. Hope 2024 will see you get more assistance from the various groups that are supposed to help out and get you some support.

That's great! I'm really grateful for everyone who has read along, supported and given advice, and you've always been one who has kept up with me, even when I feel like I'm just venting out awful and sad things! But it really has been helping me cope, and so has all the sensible advice and supportive shoulders here, and in pm.

If it's also encouraging members to organise their own medical and legal stuff in advance, even better! I don't know why mum and dad didn't do wills when younger, mum was exactly the type of person who would have, but really towards the end, the only thing of real value is the house itself, so they probably didn't want to will it to one or the other of us, or dictate that it be sold so we could split the value, especially given my brother has always lived here and while they knew I was more independent and capable of managing, that I have a sentimental attachment to the house, to a lot of the items they cherished - like the sign my grandad painted to hang above my parents first shop, plus the animals.... it would have been difficult for them to write I imagine, and we likely would have ended up in a similar boat even if I hadn't moved back in to help care for them. I would have had to come back to care for mum, and to sort the house/funerals/estate settling/sorting through the house and their personal items.

I am aware of my brother and I occasionally slipping into old childhood dynamics, like when I finally lost patience and yelled at him about the funeral costs not being paid off, and leaving me to do all the housework/pet care/organising - which is weird, but probably to be expected under the circumstances.

It's not about greed, or either of us not wanting to share, wanting an uneven share. It's way more complicated, more emotional, and our different and often clashing emotional/psychological issues. He's four years older, but I'm having to act like the parent, which I hate, but it is what it is, and no point wailing over it now, I already had a good wail, and since this didn't send me spiralling into the nuthouse, I don't think anything will. I don't feel strong enough to manage it all, but I some of the good qualities from both parents in me, and I'm reminding myself of that, listening to lots of music, talking to friends and relatives to vent the emotional and grief side of things, and depending on the different professionals to guide me through the practical side of things that I have no clue how to navigate, but I know can be tackled a bit at a time.

I know I'll be okay, whatever happens. I have a place Pixie and I can go with my closest friend of more than 20 years to take a break, and to stay if needed - so that reassurance makes me feel less panicky. I don't want to dump myself on him like a crazed spinster aunt, but I know I can and he would, and that's good to know, and helps me stop panicking so much about what'll happen/where I'll live if we're forced to sell the house etc. That there is a back up plan, even if it's not right long term, and I think/hope I can sort out something better so I have my own space again, where I also don't have to lose my pets, especially my dog and any future dogs. I also do want my brother to be okay, and will support him working with professionals himself so he can be okay, but he has to finally grow up and learn how to care for himself too, not expect me to parent and look after him.

 

[Alice B]

some men never grow up. i've married 3 of them. and divorced. Hopefully your brother will be the exception on that.