So keep it until she dies. Let her enjoy it. Maybe the kids will want it, maybe they won’t.
Try contacting college / university art museums. They’re usually very interested in anything that has teaching value, and if it’s from a culture that isn’t otherwise represented in their collection, so much the better.
My mom is convinced her limited edition prints are worth thousands. They are worth tens, if that. But the belief is satisfying to her, and the facts will make certain decisions easier when the time comes.
Update: We got them into the care home (much confusion and distress from both - he somehow believed he was going to live in a warden-managed apartment - despite us having repeatedly explained it was a bedroom in an assisted care home with 24x7 nursing care; Mum was shocked and confused and upset that nobody had told her this was going to happen - of course we had told her, many multiples of times, but she can’t retain any new memories so she had forgotten).
Next day, he’s asking if we can smuggle in some whisky and other alcohol, complaining about the food and later, phoning me (after we had said our goodbyes and gone to prepare to fly home to England) to ask if I can come back to lift him out of his chair into bed; there are staff there ready and waiting to help with this - I don’t think he’s confused about it - I think it might have been an attempt to get us to stay longer and go around the loop again where we are trying to support them to live in their own entirely unsuitable, filthy and dangerous home.
We packed up and secured the house and flew home yesterday. I’m going to give it a couple of days for them to settle down before calling. I fully expect he will instigate some scheme to try to escape from the nursing home and try to go home, which would be disastrous as he can’t even stand up at the moment. It’s not a prison and people are allowed to go out if they are able - and he’s scheduled for a series of radiotherapy sessions at the city hospital - so it’s possible he will try to bribe the hospital transport to drop him somewhere other than back at the care home (we have warned everyone not to accept this).
I am so glad you could leave the country with the comfort that they are in a controlled environment with trained caretakers. Transitions are always the worst part, once a routine is built I hope there will be acceptance.
Either way, you responsibly made certain that they both are in a safe place. This was a GREAT thing. You foreseen, then averted, absolute disaster when they no longer are capable of doing so. A good day for all.
Yeah, I wish we’d gone straight to that reality instead of trying to set them up back into their own house (a couple of times on their own and once with hired carers coming in twice a day to supervise meds and cleaning, but that wasn’t enough). They have to be in a place where they can call for help at any time and it will arrive, and where that help can and will escalate to hospital and other services as necessary.
It’s a big blow for them as they have lived their super-independent expat life in Spain for over 20 years, but every time we tried to talk to them in the past about plans, they just shut us down; until now when they arrive at the point of needing a plan and not having one - so now they have to accept whatever we were able to find. Fortunately, the care home is excellent and happened to have a place.
I gather, from when my grandmother was in a dementia ward and we used to visit a lot, that people who have difficulty forming new memories usually become accustomed to a new home in about a week. Your mom’s partner may have a harder transition. But at least there are people there to clean up the dog piss and make sure they can get to the toilet.
Best wishes.
I don’t understand this. Why on Earth wouldn’t you let her do the vacumming and clean the bathrooms? Do you enjoy those tasks?
I would but we have had house cleaners for about 15 years and they do much more than house cleaning. All routine maintenance for example. And when we needed a ride to a doctor’s appointment, they took us after we had to cancel the previous appointment because 5 different Uber drivers gave up on finding us (on account of read construction they couldn’t navigate. I am not letting them go no matter what.
Aha. Good reason.
The story continues its sad arc.
The hospital in Spain had been continuing to give him daily radiotherapy treatment, but the hospital transport would pick him up mid to late morning, take him off to the hospital (an hour’s journey at least as other patients were also picked up); he’d get his radiotherapy session, but then have to sit around waiting for return transport - often not making it back to the home until late in the evening - missing meals and drinks, not getting any care or rest, and being lifted around badly (the hospital transport drivers are not officially supposed to provide assistance in and out of the vehicle, but he couldn’t walk, so they’d basically grab and lift him by his clothes).
After 3 weeks of this, he was becoming increasingly weak and one morning about 2 weeks ago, he was feeling too weak and unwell to get out of bed. The care home said they would get the doctor but he sternly told them to leave him alone (and for some reason, they did). The hospital transport turned up and took him off for radiotherapy like clockwork, but after his session, he collapsed and was taken to urgent care, then admitted to the hospital on a ward. Without us out there to cajole him to eat and drink, he refused all of the hospital food (I think really he just wanted to die and this was all he could do to make that happen). He also had infections at multiple sites that just were not responding to any antibiotic treatment. He’s 92 - I think everything was just used up and worn out.
We got a call later that he was in sharp decline and on Tuesday of last week, I and my sister flew out there in a hurry - we went straight from the airport to the hospital and on arrival, we were told that he probably had only minutes left to live. I left my sister there with him (he wasn’t fully conscious but was responsive to people talking); I raced off to collect my mum from the care home (45 minutes drive each way). We got back too late - he had died minutes after I set off.
My mum was obviously hugely distraught; she did get to see him before they took him off to the mortuary. but she was also really weak and confused - her dementia apparently having advanced a lot during the short time since the last visit. We made the perhaps-foolish decision to take her out of the care home so she could stay with us in the apartment we had rented for a week - the plan was to comfort and care for her, then get her back to England to live with my sister. The plan did not go well.
Her dementia meant that she kept forgetting he had died, and having to go through the shock of learning that over and over again, each time being angry that nobody had told her until now. It did eventually stick, but her mood spiralled downwards - she became angry at everything (natural I guess), but often refused to eat or drink, threatened to kill herself, was suspicious and angry and aggressive to us day after day. We took her to the funeral home to see his body after they had dressed him up a bit, but half an hour after the visit, she’d forgotten and wanted to go again etc.
We booked a return flight two days earlier than intended and while we were waiting for that to come around, she seemed to progress a little bit through the grieving and seemed to agree that the best thing was to come to England to live with my sister. We flew back with that as the plan. I stayed at my sister’s house to help her settle in.
The morning after the flight, she was angry and abusive and suspicious about everything - it took hours to persuade her that she was in England at my sister’s house (even though this was very obviously not a care home). She began to hallucinate that we had said the most awful things to her about various subjects and half of the conversations became aggressive interrogations about why we would say that (we didn’t say that), what did we say then (no idea - how do you even respond to that question when the conversation never happened), then it descended into threats of self-harm, refusal to eat, shouting, lying on the floor and thrashing, threatening to run away (only defeated by the fact she can only walk a short distance) and demanding to be taken back to Spain to live on her own (obviously not possible as she has no capacity for self care or to manage her own shopping, meds, finances, etc).
After two full days of this it became clear that she probably wasn’t ever going to properly settle down at my sister’s house and attempting to make that happen was going to take us all down. We got her into a residential care home here in England - lovely place with lots of different environments and activities and excellent food (I hope I end up somewhere like that myself if/when the time comes). She was deeply unhappy about being taken there and continued to insist that she’s perfectly capable of living on her own in Spain, so we basically had to lie to her to say this was just convalescent care for a little while, to build up her strength.
That’s where we left it - she was being lovingly attended to by two members of staff and was actually eating a (delicious - I had a taste) meal; later they sent us photos of her eating an evening meal and participating in a craft activity with others. It feels like this might be OK in the long run, maybe.
Except there might not even be a long run; somewhere in all the chaos after bringing her back here, we got her into the GP surgery to transcribe/transfer her Spanish prescription meds into English and they did a few routine tests (urine, blood, etc). The bloods came back with possible cancer indicators, so maybe that’s looming in the near future and after all that’s happened, as long as she doesn’t suffer, I realise there are (and have already just been) much worse things than dying.
Oh, wow. How awful for all of you! The part about her learning over and over of his death just ripped my heart out. And your poor sister, having to realize that she would be unable to care for her Mother at home. And poor you, being dragged all over the world to try and manage these transitions in ways that could have been so much simpler and healthier for everybody.
That resistance to giving up caring for oneself is a core survival instinct, and it dies hard. It’s had too many thousands of years to build up before such things as care homes existed. Years in which giving up meant death. That drives the tenor of the resulting conflict for family after family. It’s just all so painful.
Still, in the end, we would all choose to see our loved ones “rage against the dying of the light”. And it helps a bit, when it’s all over, to know that absolutely everything that could be done, was done.
Wishing you peace, and rest, and strength for the final laps. Remember this is a marathon not a sprint; pace yourself.
Thank you!
There are still lessons coming out of all this. I am working on setting something up so that if/when I reach a similar point in my own life, my kids will not have to do this, and where I will not be in a position to argue about it (obviously power of attorney would be one thing, but I think I might record a video letter to my future self to say that I absolutely agree to accept their judgment on what needs to happen next).
Future you will just be angry at current you, in addition to being angry with the kids, i suspect.
I’m really sorry you had to go through all that.
Maybe, but if I do it now, there’s a fair chance future me will still remember that I did it. It seems to be the formation of new memories that’s the problem - remembering things from before the onset of dementia still seems to be a thing.
Sorry for your loss and all the other stress @Mangetout
I just wanted to say in terms of the thread title, that IME it is more of a dementia thing than embedded bad habits. I’ve seen a few instances of people who were incredibly proactive and organized, all the way to an advanced age, but then suddenly there’s mess everywhere, the cupboards are full of stale food, and it’s not a thing that will resolve without medical treatment (or often with, sadly).
Yeah, I’ve learned a lot over the past few months; ultimately only professional intervention will work, and even then, the outcome isn’t ever going to be lovely.
I am sorry for your loss. You did everything in your power and it did matter. As for your mom, I’m sorry for the trauma that you and your sis have been going through. It is important to remember that with dementia its best to narrow focus to moment-to-moment happiness, they will not be able to fully be cognizant of events, relationships, or occurrences.
This has been useful in my case (but not necessarily applicable to anyone else’s ailing mum), I’ve found that the best manner of cutting through the confusion, fear, rage, etc. is to being 1000% overly and cloyingly warm, nice, praising, friendly, gentle to her. Think of like how you would act if you were overcome with emotion at a baby or puppy. They will never quite understand what is going on, but if you project BEAMING kindness, warmth, and caring (on levels higher than the surface of the sun, this is not time for “British Understatement”), it soothes 99% of the minute-to-minute fear and worries. They act much more calmer, rational, and at ease; by all outward appearances, happier and content. This is in addition to proper medication, exercise, and general attention.
Also talk with your children and thoroughly prepare them for your own aging. Introduce them to what you are going through and make sure that they are capable of acting as headstrong a manner as you have needed to do so.
Sadly if there is a future where you also suffer a similar illness, there isn’t a manner that you could talk sense into yourself. At some point the psyche succumbs to limitations of the biologic degeneration. The best course of action is to live a lifestyle that slows progression and to catch any mental decline early for legal preparation, and medical treatment.
You, your sister, and your family have acted with such great strength. I hope everyone recognises this. Everyone should be proud of themselves.
I’m so sorry. It’s so sad, and there’s nothing you can do to make it better. That’s the hard part. My MIL had to go into assisted living in 2024. She was so unhappy. She’d cry every time we’d visit and try to follow us out the door when we left. Within a couple of weeks dementia set in, she wouldn’t eat, the list goes on. She died after only being there a month.
My mom went into assisted living in 2025. It was heartbreaking. We had to sell her house and get rid of all of her possessions while she was aware of it. She wouldn’t participate in any activities and wouldn’t even eat her meals in the dining room. Her mind was pretty good. My sister and I would go visit and she’d play Scrabble with us and she’d do crossword puzzles. She had at least 50 large picture albums with pictures dating back to the 20s. We’d bring a few at a time so she could go through them and toss out doubles, blurred, or ones that didn’t have any meaning just so we could have a somewhat reasonable amount that could be stored in a few boxes. She really enjoyed that. But after 6 months of being in AL, she had a stroke and died a few days later.
I’m 65, and my greatest fear is that I’ll get some sort of dementia. I wonder on occasion what will take me out and I pray it’s quick. If I am out of my mind, I would not expect my daughter to take care of me.
I hope you and your sister are not blaming yourselves or feel like you should do more. You’ve done everything you can. Take care.
So very sad all around! I am so sorry!
I learned not to argue with someone with dementia – it’s OK to lie (i.e., when asked about a signifcant person who has died, just keep saying “He’ll be back in a little while.”)
Roz Chast has written a very moving book about dealing with her aging parents (“Why Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?”)
IMO, unfortunately this is the result when societies/religions/governments cannot deal rationally with the reality of death. It is almost impossible to have a reasonable conversation about the right to die. I have been a member of Exit International (www.exitinternational.net) for many years and with their help I have put measures in place that will hopefully allow me to spare my children from dealing with my decline.