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It is all to easy to ignore an elderly relative. As a nation, we have become extremely selfish. We often forget that it was our parents who gave us life and then spent so much time, effort and, yes, money, bringing us up. Of course they wanted children, but the least we can do is show gratitude for everything they have done for us.

But it often doesn't seem to work like that. We quite naturally fly the nest and become so wrapped up in the new experience of finding our own way in life that we forget our parents. I would also point out that parents seem to forget too that we are no longer their cuddly little children. We have moved on and become responsible for our own lives and maybe those of children if we are lucky.

It can hit parents hard. When their children move on, they can either look on it as the end of an era and the start of a new phase of their life. Or they can regard the change as something sad. Life will never be the same again. In the case of my widowed mother-in-law, she took the latter option. I found it quite annoying when she used to ring every day at the same time. I tried to avoid picking up the phone, but if my wife was out there was no choice and I had to speak to her. The conversation was always so negative and centered around her. She would go into detail about her latest ailments, how all she had left in life was her television. She never inquired about us or her grandson. If my wife was out, she took a tongue lashing. 'Why is she off gallivanting around when she has a husband and son at home? How do you put up with it? She is such a bad wife.'

I used to take everything she said with a pinch of salt. I assumed she was a grumpy old woman who was trying to wheedle her way into our life. Her intention seemed to be to come and live with us. My wife was as resistant to that as I was because it would have been so disruptive. What we didn't appreciate was that she was very depressed. She felt she had lost everything and that nobody cared. We thought she was just a difficult person. Fortunately, a mutual friend popped in to see her one day and identified there was a problem. He arranged for a neighbor to take her to see a doctor and she was then booked in to see a specialist who diagnosed the problem as clinical depression.

Discovering that she was ill rather than simply miserable helped a great deal in the way we handled her in future. She got the medication she needed and we were able to try to help her look for positives in her life. With professional help she now looks for the joys in life. Her phone calls are more about asking how her grandson is getting on, how she is looking forward to our next visit and the like. Spotting the problem has helped transform her life - and ours. We no longer dread those phone calls.

Learn more about this author, Phil Hill.
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