The are many moments of insight, such as the distinction between ‘caring’ and being a ‘carer’. As she says, the latter is about ‘routine, the endless repetition of things, of always having someone else’s needs at the forefront of your mind. The quotidian tasks that repeat and repeat: conversations, medication, meals, laundry, personal hygiene.’ By the end of the An Extra Pair of Hands, I felt uplifted by the strength of the human spirit, the power of friendship and compassion and the joy of lives lived well. Mosse finds it hard to shoehorn her thoughts into the impoverished bureaucratic language used in the “care industry” and complains at being designated a “carer”, with its implication of inequality and the passivity of the dependent. Here, she indignantly insists that her surviving mother-in-law may now be dependent, but is also still very much her strong-willed, vibrant self. Mosse refers to herself deprecatingly as an “extra pair of hands” even if she is now “full-time”. The book’s title speaks to the importance of tact in protecting dignity and respect, and Mosse describes admiringly how her mother cared for her father when he had Parkinson’s. “She never spoke for him, never took over unless he wanted her help, never let the things he could no longer do become more important than the things he could do.” She questions how and why we fetishise independence when the reality of human experience is always interdependence. Here is a book that sees, in this, a cause for celebration. As an epigram to the book, Mosse quotes Adrienne Rich: “Freedom is daily, prose-bound, routine remembering.” Throughout the book she weaves in family history; stories of her childhood in West Sussex, the marriage of her parents and the wonderful character of her mother-in-law who took an entertainment troupe round local care homes to regale residents with music and song. Thus Mosse portrays the riches of reciprocal relations of care between one generation and the next, and is a helpful corrective to the negativity that sometimes burdens the subject.

As our population ages, more and more of us find ourselves caring for parents and loved ones – some 8.8 million people in the UK. An invisible army of carers holding families together. She mentions three Rs – routine, repetition and regularity. But even so, she often felt she was falling short much of the time. She became very alert to the slightest sound, especially during the dark hours of the night, when “too many things can go wrong” – when a stumble on the way to the bathroom can lead to a serious fall, when night terrors can take hold, when those with dementia find themselves lost in a world where time no longer exists.This is intertwined with thoughts about ageing, caring and an account of life during the pandemic.’ In An Extra Pair of Hands Kate Mosse explored what it is like to become a carer for those who has once cared for you. Having gone through this myself recently I say it is the moment you become an actual adult. You may have a mortgage, a car, be married and even have kids of your own but when your parents become your responsibility the whole axis of your world goes of kilter. And it is terrifying. But even with Mosse’s advantages “it’s hard”, she bluntly admits, and “often it feels as if there are no good options, only less bad ones”. She notes that the origin of the word care is the old German word chara for “burden of the mind”. On several occasions, she comments on the “numbing” repetitiveness of daily tasks, but perhaps even more painful is the powerlessness entailed in caring for the elderly as you witness their process of loss – of faculties, of freedom and independence – with only limited ability to relieve or ease it. The paradox about carers is that a strong satisfaction lies in “fixing things” – making someone better, cheering them up – but that may not be possible. Mosse admits sadly that “however much you do, it never feels enough.” I have read a few Kate Mosse books, loved her Languadoc Trilogy so when I saw that she had released a non fiction book, I won’t lie to you, I was intrigued. Especially when I saw its association with the Wellcome Collection. I have to say, I wasn’t disappointed.

Kate Mosse talks about how many carers there are in the UK, and how they are mostly forgotten about, or taken advantage of. How families and loved ones take on caring responsibilities without a thought for their own physical or mental health. She talks about how families pull together, and how the departure of elderly loved ones can leave such a massive hole, one that will never be filled. This book just took my breath away and shows so much love and care towards Kate's family and so much courage one family can have. A carer is a very special person in so many ways and I cared for my father in Law for many years until the end of life....So a big Hug to you Kate and family, this book is an inspiration for us all out there. Mosse explore this so well in her book looking at the practicalities of looking after a parent, taking control of things you never had to do before but mainly she looks at the emotional side of things both of you as the carer and the parent whose loss of independence and having to rely on others can be hard to accept.Here, Kate Mosse tells her own personal story of finding herself a carer in middle age: first, helping her heroic mother care for her beloved father through Parkinsons, then supporting her mother in widowhood, and finally as ‘an extra pair of hands’ for her 90- year-old mother-in-law. A deeply moving story of what it means to care for those we love by bestselling author Kate Mosse, a celebration of older people and ageing, and of finding joy in the smallest acts of everyday caregiving. Caroline Branney, who manages our Dementia Knowledge Centre, says, ‘Mosse tells an absorbing story about her family, in particular the older generation.