Clearing a mother’s home as Alzheimer’s advances reveals joy and hidden pain

Stephen Kelman writes that his mother has moved into a nursing home after her Alzheimer’s progressed to the point that she needs round‑the‑clock care, and he has been emptying the house where she lived for more than 50 years, curating her life through the possessions he must decide to keep or discard.

Photographs make up a large part of the material he is sorting: hundreds of images in envelopes and leatherette albums that bring up faces, family history and memories both benign and painful. He recalls a childhood marked by financial strain, weekly visits from the Provident rep, caravan holidays paid for on credit, and a marriage he views as functional and loveless; he also describes episodes of violence from his father and a household pattern of rupture and uneasy peace.

Kelman uses memorabilia — autographs and old performance footage, knickknacks and household items — as props to try to awaken his mother’s memories, while deliberately omitting the one story they never tell: the details of her marriage and the abuse he experienced. He frames his care as repayment and as an effort to protect her from embarrassment, and since handing the house keys back to the council a week ago he says he has been sleeping a little better.

Yesterday he found a photograph of his mother at 15, taken after she won a Thames cruise with Johnny Kidd & the Pirates, and he plans to bring it to her this afternoon and, if she is amenable, wheel her into the garden.

Key Topics

Health, Stephen Kelman, Alzheimer's Disease, Nursing Home, Caesar's Palace, Provident