I Just Can’t Let Her Go

21December

I hardly know where to begin, but tonight the memories keep looping in my head. Ivy had stormed into the kitchen, eyes flashing, and snarled, Your old mum with all her meddling isnt welcome here! Choose me or her. The words struck Alex as if a fist had landed across his chest. He seemed to freeze, as though his wife had just given him a sudden blow.

Right, he muttered, voice thin. Ive spent years trying to build a life, thinking I had a solid backstop, only to find out its a house of cards. What if I fall ill one day? Will you throw me out like yesterdays rubbish?

Ivys lips pressed together, arms folded tight across her chest. Alex only managed a bitter chuckle. No thanks, he said. I dont need a family that abandons you when the going gets tough. My grandma fed and looked after me, gave me a foothold in this world, and you today you showed your true colours.

Ivy could do nothing but stare, stunned. I understood Alexs pain, and I felt my own sting. He gathered his things in a hurry, took his motherinlaw, Grandma Lily, by the hand and stepped out. The front door clicked shut behind them, as if someone had flipped a switch and their shared life flickered off.

I was left alone in the bedroom or perhaps it was still mine? the silence heavy as a coffin. The fierce anger that had burned just moments before drained away, leaving only a cold, empty weight on my chest. My gaze fell on a photograph perched on the dresser. In it, the man I thought I knew was replaced by a gaunt, dishevelled eightyearold boy, eyes wide with fear.

Alex had never spoken much of his childhood. At first he said nothing; later, he let bits slip out, as if opening a cupboard of old skeletons. He seemed composed, yet his fingers fidgeted, watching me for any sign of judgment.

I grew up without a dad, and hardly any mum, he confessed. Dad was locked up for violent offences before I was even born. We never saw him again. Mum was already drinking, and after that you could only approach her in daylight, and only if she was in a decent mood. At night she could snap, even hit us. We were three kids, which made it a little easier, but still a nightmare.

Gradually I learned that his elder sister, Claire, would take Alex and his younger brother to Lilys flat during the worst episodes. There they could hide from Mums tantrums and finally sleep without dread. Lily would hug them, smile, pour warm milk with honey, and bake sweet pastries that softened the bitterness of their cramped lives and the smell of stale alcohol.

Lily Thompson was a modest woman, cleaning at the local secondary school and knitting on commission sweaters, cardigans, socks, mittens all sold to fund new winter coats and schoolbooks for her grandchildren.

One night Alex, his voice soft, admitted that the warmest moments of his life were those when he woke up in the dark, saw the soft glow spilling from Lilys room, and fell back asleep to the rhythmic click of her needles.

When Alexs mother passed away, Lily took the boys in. She struggled with three children, could not give them everything, but she offered a sense of security that meant more to Alex than any degree or flat.

Years went by and Lilys health declined. She rarely left the house, barely coping with daily chores. The older grandchildren visited at first, then switched to occasional bank transfers, eventually focusing on their own families and mortgages, repairs, cars. They could spare a few pounds now and then, but not much. Alex was the only one who still came every week, sometimes twice.

I never objected. I wasnt close to Lily, but I understood that she was a second mother to Alex.

You can stay here if you dont feel like going, Alex would say. Im not forcing you after all, shes my grandma, not yours.

Sometimes I joined him to help tidy up. I respected Lily, even if there was no blood relation. By then we had two children of our own, living in a twobedroom flat Lily had left me from my late aunt. Every Christmas Lily sent warm woollen socks to her greatgrandchildren and to me a tradition that had taken root. One day, however, she handed us a small box of tea and sweets, looking embarrassed.

I wanted to knit, she sighed, glancing at her knotted hands. But my fingers arent what they used to be, love. They forget, they dont obey Age.

We tried to make light of it, but I saw the bewilderment, helplessness, and pain flickering in Alexs eyes. Those socks were more than a gift; they were a tether to his childhood, now slowly slipping away. I didnt grasp that then I only saw a sweetold lady, sad with age, and missed the warning bell.

The next day was ordinary. I was straightening toys, coaxing my youngest daughter, Elsie, to bed when the phone rang.

Grandmas missing! Alex shouted, panic cracking his voice. I got home, the door was open, she wasnt there, the phone wont ring!

I froze, as if doused in ice water. Hold on, Alex. Maybe shes at the shop or with neighbours? I tried to stay calm.

Ive checked every neighbour, and shes still gone! Im off to look!

A short, frantic beeping followed. My heart pounded in my temples.

I didnt feel any particular affection for Lily, but the thought of something happening to her while she was alone terrified me. I couldnt let Alex crumble under grief and guilt.

I gathered the children and drove them to my mothers house, then raced after Alex. We combed the streets, the high street, the market, showed Lilys photograph to anyone whod glance. No one could help.

We finally found her in the early evening, near the old bakery she loved, curled up on a filthy kerb, shivering, lips moving silently. Alex dropped to his knees, unable to touch her. When I drew nearer, I heard Lily whisper, I wanted to get buns for little Elsie She loves them with sultanas.

The sight froze my breath. Alexs despair was palpable, beyond words.

Within days we saw a doctor. The diagnosis: earlystage dementia. Neither of us truly grasped what that meant then.

My mother will never be the same, my own mum said, sighing. Ive cared for your grandma too. Shell keep slipping away, and youll have to live with that. Ideally she needs professional, roundtheclock care, not just a neighbours occasional help.

Professional care not a hobbyist. Not a busy mother with two children and no medical training. Alex refused to even consider it.

I wont hand her over to strangers, he argued. Young people always watch the old folk. If something happened to your own, Id step in too.

In the end, Ivy gave in and we brought Lily into our home. From that moment, life turned into a constant battle. Lily was placed in the childrens bedroom; the kids were moved into the master bedroom. The cramped space was only the start of the trouble.

At night Lily argued with imagined ghosts of the past. My younger daughter woke screaming. The others lay awake. I tried to soothe Lily, but it was futile. Lily grew picky about food. I froze berries and made compote for the children. I wanted fresh compote myself but swallowed my desire; the kids came first. Lily didnt understand, and she grew bitter.

Youre starving me, not even a sip of compote, she complained. Im old enough for this, you know.

She would also empty the kettle at night while everyone slept. Mornings began with the youngests fit of hysteria because she expected her sweet drink.

All that was tolerable until one night I was roused by the smell of burnt sugar. I rushed to the kitchen and found Lily standing over a scorching pan, running a fork over the empty, blistering surface, muttering. The pans handle was melting in places.

I was terrified not just for myself, but for the children. That night could have been our last.

Alex, this cant continue, I said, shaking him awake. I understand illness, but this could kill us all! We need to think perhaps we could all chip in for a livein carer?

What carer? he replied groggily. Ive spoken to Claire and Dennis Its too expensive.

Then lets sell her flat and buy a place closer to her, I suggested. At least we could visit more often.

You dont see she needs constant supervision? How can I leave her alone?

How can I leave her with the kids? I whispered, my voice cracking.

We never reached an agreement. Alex left the house that night, the door closing behind him with a final sigh. I sat amid the photographs, hands still trembling. I realised it wasnt Alex who had gone, but the little boy who once hid in Lilys house, whose refuge was now slipping away. Knowing that didnt ease the ache.

Later that afternoon I called my mother, desperate to break the oppressive silence.

Darling maybe we moved too fast? she said, her voice soft. Are there other options?

Do you think I havent tried? I snapped. He refuses to listen! For him theres only one path suffering, heroics, paying for the past. And Im the one who ends up footing the bill. Hes at work, Im here alone with three kids, one of whom is an adult and completely out of control. Great, right?

My love, men are like that, my mum replied sympathetically. They rarely understand the grind of everyday life Maybe hell cool down, think it over.

Three months later Alex called, then drove over. Hed lost weight, his eyes hollow, as if he hadnt slept in weeks. We sat at the kitchen table the very place where everything had begun.

I cant just walk away from her, he began, eyes downcast. I cant either live without you. When everything fell on my shoulders and I was left alone, I realised I cant do this by myself.

I moved closer, laying my hand on his shoulder.

Is she alone now? I asked.

Ive taken a remote job, hired a neighbour as a parttime carer she used to be a nurse. Shell come a couple of hours each day. Its enough for me to see you both again, if youll have us back.

A tired, forced smile slipped onto my face. Alex couldnt move back completely, but this was a start. I, too, had softened over the months, understanding that life is messy, that we sometimes have to settle for less.

Yes, well take you in, I said, pulling him into an embrace. He shivered at first, then opened his arms wide.

Our family didnt snap back together in an instant. We began the long road toward rebuilding, even discussing selling Lilys flat so we could buy something nearer a place where we could spend evenings together, share meals. For now, we could only manage joint dinners and quiet nights.

Even that felt like a massive step forward. Our family had shattered into fragments, but we werent giving up. Piece by piece we were gathering the bits, trying to fill the gaps, hoping one day the picture would be whole again.