Am I doing the right thing putting mum in a home?

The question arrives at strange moments. Standing in the car park after signing the contract. Watching someone else bring her dinner. Driving home after a visit where she said she wanted to go home.

Am I doing the right thing?

In fifteen years of general practice, I have watched hundreds of families navigate aged care decisions. The guilt is almost universal. And it is almost never talked about honestly — not by health professionals, not in the brochures, not even between siblings doing this together.

So let me talk about it honestly.

Why you feel guilty

Guilt signals a perceived violation of your own values. If you feel guilty about this decision, it is because you care deeply about your parent — and because you believe on some level that caring for someone yourself is better than arranging for others to care for them.

That belief is worth examining. It comes from somewhere real: a cultural understanding (explicit in many families, implicit in most) that children should care for parents the way parents cared for them. It is reinforced by the language we use — "putting someone in a home" carries a weight that "arranging residential care" does not.

But the belief is not always true. And the guilt does not mean you are doing the wrong thing.

What guilt does and does not mean

Guilt is information about your values. It is not a verdict on your decision.

The parents I have seen thrive most in residential care have almost always had families who visited regularly, advocated loudly when things went wrong, built relationships with staff, and remained deeply involved — even though they were not the primary carers. Their children felt guilty for years. And they were doing exactly the right thing.

The people I have seen most harmed by these decisions have sometimes been the ones cared for at home by exhausted, overwhelmed family carers who were approaching breakdown — not because the family didn't love them, but because love alone cannot provide clinical nursing care, twenty-four hour supervision, and specialist dementia support simultaneously.

The question the guilt is actually asking

When families say "am I doing the right thing," what they are usually really asking is one of three things:

• Is my parent safe and cared for? This is a practical question with a practical answer. Visit regularly. Watch the staff interactions, not just the facilities. If something feels wrong, raise it.
• Am I abandoning them? No. Arranging care is not the same as leaving. Your presence, advocacy, and relationship continue — they just take a different form.
• What would they have wanted? This is the hardest one. Sometimes we know. Sometimes the person who could tell us can no longer do so. If you have an Advance Care Directive or conversations to draw on, draw on them. If not: you are making the best decision you can with the information you have and the options that exist. That is all any of us can do.

The particular guilt of dementia

Dementia care produces a specific form of guilt because the person you are making decisions for may not recognise you, may resist the care being arranged, and may say things — "you're putting me away," "I want to go home" — that lodge in you and don't leave.

It matters to understand that in moderate to advanced dementia, "I want to go home" almost never means the physical house. It typically means a feeling of safety, familiarity, and being known. A good care environment creates that — not by being someone's house, but by knowing who they are, how they like their tea, what music makes them settle. That feeling of being known is what they are asking for. It can exist in residential care.

It also matters to understand that resistance to care — including resistance to the transition itself — is a feature of the disease in many people, not a reflection of how good the care is or how loved they feel. Some of the most content care home residents initially refused to go.

The guilt that warrants paying attention to

Not all guilt is unfounded. Some of it is pointing at something real that needs addressing:

• If the facility has quality concerns — inspection reports, staffing complaints, your own observations — guilt about the specific place is telling you something worth acting on. That is not the same as guilt about the decision.
• If you have stopped visiting or withdrawn — avoidance is a normal response to grief and guilt, but it can harm your parent and deepen your own distress. The guilt here is asking you to reconnect, not to reconsider the decision.
• If the decision was made under pressure, without enough information, or before alternatives were genuinely considered — this guilt deserves direct engagement. Not necessarily reversal of the decision, but a review of it with clear eyes.

Carrying it without being consumed by it

The guilt, in most cases, does not resolve quickly. Families I have spoken to years after this decision often still feel it sometimes — at Christmas, when something goes wrong, when their parent fails to recognise them. That is grief wearing the face of guilt.

What changes, for most, is that it stops being the primary feeling. Other things come through: relief that the daily clinical care is being provided properly. Gratitude that visits can be visits again, rather than caregiving shifts. The slow recognition that your parent is being treated with dignity.

A few things help:

• Staying involved, not stepping back. Regular visits, knowing the staff by name, attending care plan meetings — remaining present in a different role.
• Talking to someone who understands. Your GP, a social worker, a carer support service. Carer Gateway in Australia (1800 422 737) provides free counselling specifically for family carers. The guilt is worth saying out loud to a professional who has heard it before.
• Allowing the feelings without making them evidence. Guilt is a feeling, not a verdict. You can feel it, acknowledge it, and still trust your decision.