Caring for my two favourite women could be tough. But a cute collection brought us comfort. By Dawn Fearn, 51
Chatting to my mother-in-law Marion, she mentioned my birthday.
It was just a week away, so she said, ‘Let’s go out for lunch to celebrate.’
‘Lovely, I’ll book somewhere,’ I replied.
Marion had moved in with my husband Ian and I just before the COVID-19 lockdown came into force because we’d been worried about her being on her own.
But we loved having her with us so much, it had become a permanent arrangement.
Marion was always up for a gossip and made a great teammate when we watched our favourite TV quiz shows together.
Only recently, I’d noticed Marion had become quite forgetful and it worried me.
Then, on my birthday, as I pottered around getting ready, Marion didn’t emerge from her bedroom.
And when I stuck my head around her bedroom door, she was still in bed with her curtains closed.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
‘I’m not feeling well,’ she murmured.
So I left her to rest and cancelled our lunch. It was only later that evening when I realised she hadn’t mentioned my birthday… she’d forgotten it.
It just wasn’t like her and when she didn’t seem any better a few days on, we took her to the GP who referred her for tests.
We were upset, but not surprised when Marion was diagnosed with vascular dementia.
She was put on medication, which helped. But we knew she’d need more care as the disease progressed, so we threw ourselves into making sure we did the best we could for her.
As well as caring for Marion, I’d also visit a lovely lady called Elsie. She was 96 and lived near to us in Swansea.
She had no kids of her own and no family locally, so I’d help her with housework and shopping.
‘You are a gem,’ she’d say, as I’d help her unpack her weekly shop.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ I’d reply – and it really was.
Then one evening, I was driving home from work when I spotted Elsie at the bus stop wrapped in her coat holding onto her walking frame, so I pulled over.
‘Where are you going, Elsie?’ I asked her.
‘I’m off to town,’ she replied
But it was gone 5pm and all the shops would be shut, so I got her in the car and took her home.
‘I must’ve got confused,’ she fretted.
Concerned, I called her niece who said it might be time for Elsie to go into a care home.
But I hated the thought of her living with strangers, so I said, ‘She can live with us.’
We spoke to Elsie and weeks later, she moved in.
Now I was around her all the time, I noticed some familiar signs.
‘I must’ve got confused’
She’d forget simple words and one morning, she got herself into a pickle trying to get dressed.
‘It’s vest first then cardigan, isn’t it?’ she asked.
Having watched Marion’s dementia develop, I encouraged Elsie to see her doctor and soon after, she was also diagnosed with vascular dementia and Alzheimer’s.
Ian and I became full-time carers for Elsie and Marion.
It was tiring, but we worked well as a team, getting our lovely ladies dressed each morning, sorting their breakfast and ferrying them to day centres and activities.
And while I loved caring from them, it was tough to watch parts of their personalities disappear because of their illnesses.
As my 50th birthday approached, Ian thought I needed a break, so he said, ‘Let’s go away somewhere.’
We booked a trip to Paris and arranged respite care for Marion and Elise.
As we walked around the city, I spotted a Jellycat shop. I’d seen their soft toys before and always admired them.
So, we had a look round and I treated myself to a little cuddly croissant.
I couldn’t wait to show Marion and Elsie when we got back.
‘Oh that’s lovely,’ they said, stroking it’s soft fluff.
After that, a cute pain au raisin and a baguette followed. Soon, I’d built up quite a collection.
‘Another one!’ Elsie would say whenever I arrived home with a new toy.
But she loved them too and I bought her some bunnies, which she took to sleeping with each night.
Now, I have more than 150 toys and I love seeing their smiling faces at the end of my bed every morning.
But I think they help me be the best carer I can be to Marion, now 77, and Elsie, now 99. On the tough days, they bring us comfort. And, as we face this cruel disease, that is priceless.
Follow Dawn on Instagram: jellycat_and_that