“Just shove them in a home” - Why It’s Not That Simple

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard it.

From siblings, friends and colleagues.

“Why don’t you just shove them in a home?”

It usually comes from people who mean well, or think they’re being practical. They see the stress etched on my face, they hear the stories about the ambulance callouts, hospital appointments, lifts and trying to work full time and they think the solution is easy:

Outsource it.

Hand the responsibility to someone else. Put my parents in a care home so I can go back to “having a life.”

And I get it. I do. From the outside, it sounds like the logical next step. After all, I was an Occupational Therapist - I know the systems, I know how challenging home care can be, I know how overstretched families can become.

But here’s what most people don’t see.

They don’t see what happens when you rip someone away from the four walls that have held their memories for decades. They don’t see the way a person’s identity can unravel when they lose their community, their sense of place, their tiny daily routines.

They don’t see the fear, the disorientation, the quiet grief of no longer being home.

My mum has enough battles to fight: destructive arthritis that has left her borderline immobile, a failed hindfoot nailing, lymphoedema that steals her freedom and the aftershocks of sepsis and a pulmonary embolism.

My stepdad is still trying to find his words after two strokes, still trying to trust his own body again.

If I moved them into a home, they would lose everything familiar - their neighbours, the gorgeous garden they built together, the sense of being someone rather than being a patient.

That’s not a small thing. That’s their lifeline.

And beyond the emotional impact, there are the harsh realities people never talk about:

The cost. Care homes are eye-wateringly expensive.
The time. Finding a good one is far from easy.
The guilt. That subtle, crushing guilt of feeling like you gave up, even when you know logically it’s not your fault.

Residential care does have a place. For some people, it is absolutely the safest, most appropriate and most compassionate choice. I would never shame another family for making that decision - but it is not the magic fix people think it is.

Because a care home is not just a building. It is a huge, life-altering transition. One that needs to be considered with respect, preparation and a fierce amount of honesty.

Sometimes staying at home - with adaptations, support and a fair bit of Post-It-note planning is the kinder option, even if it looks harder from the outside.

It preserves dignity.
It protects identity.
It honours a lifetime.

And if I have to prop up that house with sticky plasters and spreadsheets for a bit longer, then so be it.

Because my parents are not a burden to “shove” somewhere.
They are people.

And their story deserves better than a one-size-fits-all answer.