**Bereaved Carer Left Without Support After DWP Tells Her to ‘Just Get a Job’**
After devoting more than three decades to caring for her severely disabled daughter, a mother from Cheadle has found herself not only facing the acute pain of loss, but also grappling with homelessness and financial insecurity. Tracy Hailwood, aged 54, says she was left feeling “abandoned” when the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) instructed her to “just get a job” following the death of her daughter, Stacey.
Tracy’s story sheds light on the challenges many long-term carers face once their caring responsibilities come to an abrupt end. Having become a single mother at 19, Tracy spent 33 years as Stacey’s primary caregiver after a catastrophic hospital incident in the 1980s left her daughter with severe, lifelong disabilities including spastic quadriplegia, epilepsy, and blindness. A medical negligence settlement eventually paid for an adapted home and vital equipment, but day-to-day life was a constant struggle that required Tracy to become both mother and specialist nurse.
The loss of her daughter in 2023, after five years of declining health and near-constant care, brought not only emotional devastation but also a cascade of practical problems. When Carer’s Allowance and other disability benefits ceased immediately after Stacey’s death, Tracy said she was advised by the DWP to simply “sign on” and start looking for work.
“I’ve dedicated my life to looking after my daughter, but now I’m told to find a job with no recent work history,” Tracy said. “It feels like a slap in the face. I have no current qualifications and my last formal education was nearly twenty years ago. It’s overwhelming.” She added that, having been out of conventional employment for so long, returning to work is an almost impossible ask, particularly as she now lives with serious health conditions herself, including chronic back pain and a damaged hip acquired from years of lifting and supporting Stacey.
The end of her carer’s role also precipitated a financial crisis. Without regular income and faced with mounting bills, Tracy has been forced to sell the bungalow that was once adapted for her daughter’s care. “Until the house is sold, I can’t afford anything. That means, for now, I’ll have to stay with family or sofa-surf, which isn’t great for my deteriorating health,” she admitted.
The DWP expressed its condolences to Ms Hailwood and defended its actions, highlighting that Carer’s Allowance continues for several weeks after a caring role ends. A spokesperson stated, “Our aim is always to provide the best possible support to those who need it.” However, Tracy described this support as inadequate, saying, “It counts for very little when your world falls apart. When a spouse dies, there’s a bereavement payment. When you lose a child, especially after years as a carer, there’s nothing at all. The safety net just disappears.”
Tracy’s experience echoes the plight of many lifelong carers who, after dedicating years—or even decades—to looking after disabled family members, find themselves suddenly without support. The skills they have gained, while vital in the context of care, do not always translate smoothly into employment outside the home, particularly for those with their own health concerns or gaps in their work history.
Tracy’s account also raises important questions about the support structures in place for carers once their responsibilities end. While Carer’s Allowance and other benefits provide some security during their loved ones’ lives, there appears to be a distinct lack of aftercare or transition support. “My mental health has deteriorated badly,” she confessed. “At one point I considered taking my own life. There’s just very little in the way of help once you stop being a carer because of loss.”
Advocacy groups have repeatedly called for reforms to support former carers through both bereavement and career transitions. Many highlight the double burden of grief and sudden financial hardship, arguing for longer-term assistance and targeted job support programmes. Tracy herself hopes that by sharing her story, she can help raise awareness of the silent crisis facing thousands of devoted carers whose work saves the NHS millions, yet who remain vulnerable and unsupported at the end of their journey.
As Tracy waits for the sale of her home to go through, she faces an uncertain future, relying on the hospitality of relatives and the hope that awareness could bring about change for others in her situation. Her story is a poignant reminder of the invisible struggles experienced by many carers and the urgent need for a more compassionate safety net when their caring roles come to an end.