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There is so much that I am not at liberty to say, until the family has discussed it, and made decisions, but I can tell you that the overwhelming sadness of this situation has almost killed me. The pain in my heart is never-ending, as is the sorrow in my soul.

This seems almost worse than death. I know you can’t understand that, unless you have walked in my shoes. But my mom doesn’t take things easily–she is a fighter, and lately she sees everyone as the enemy. She hates the nursing home, she gets angry with the staff, and she is very, very frustrated.

Honestly, I feel that all in all, the staff has been amazingly caring and compassionate with her. This was something that surprised me greatly, because I had heard the horror stories that we all hear abount nursing facilities. Of course, there are some that are not our favorites, but most are kind, compassionate, and competent. Most likely, she would not have received as much quality care in another place. But you could never convince her of this. She is angry, and has told me that she sees all of them as “the enemy.” I wonder if I will also fall into that category as days go by. I hope not. I have been there for her steadily. (At least every other day, and often every day.) My house, my health, and my relationships have all taken a beating because of it. But I have to be there for her, and I want to.

I have cried a river lately, over some of the news that I have received about her, and some days life just seems too difficult to bear. I have been nauseated, sleepless, and grief stricken. I am barely functioning. Tonight I stayed home and cleaned my kirchen. (Just my kitchen.) I can’t seem to focus on anything, or get anything done. I guess it’s depression because I can’t fix this situation, and I can’t change it for her. I am sure that she will think I can, and somehow hold me responsible for the outcome. But it is out of my hands. I will elaborate on this further in another post.

I am 55, and feel 75, at least. There is so much stress in my life, and so little fun. I am having trouble believing anymore that tomorrow will be better. (Maybe I’m getting angry also.) But who do I get angry at? Fate? Life? God? The Devil? I do understand my mom’s anger, and I feel it also.

I am truly worried about my health. I am having chest pains, and the uncertainty of all this, means that there is very little resolution to the problems ever. It’s all up in the air, and we’re walking on eggshells with her. She is confused and demanding, but we don’t have control over this. When we try to explain anything to her lately, she cannot retain it for long. (That part is so very sad.)

I took her on a picnic yesterday, and she said, “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a moment.” She started to get up out of her wheelchair to go to the bathroom, because she thought she could. (She is not allowed to walk any distance to speak of right now, unless she is in therapy, and using her walker, with close supervision.) She simply did not comprehend that she couldn’t get up and walk to the bathroom. This is what makes her current situation so very dangerous. Sometimes she is stubborn about what she wants to do, but many times now it isn’t defiance–it’s a lack of comprehension.  She simply does not understand, or retain the instructions.  She totally forgets what she can or can’t do. There are mental and physical problems. The mental issues are clouding everything now, and I will elaborate on some of those later.

For now, I am not ever at peace. I don’t know how to deal with this, and no one around me seems to know either. We are meeting with social workers, therapists, directors, etc., trying to figure out what to do now.

Tony will need to be informed about her current physical and mental status, as I don’t think he has observed as much as I have lately, (because I have been called in on every crisis), or Betty has told me about them. (It seems like there is a crisis at least every other day now.)

I thought that raising Chelsea, with her stubborness and strong will, was the toughest thing that I have ever done, but this is tougher. To watch your mother decline in every way, day by day, is too much to bear. At least it is for me. I have fought so hard to keep her well and happy since my dad died, and to observe this constant deterioration is devastating. I am too close to it all–too close to her. I can’t seem to accept it, and part of that is because she can’t accept any of it. She makes it all even more difficult, because she fights and rages against everyone so hard. She wants to have her way, and she doesn’t want to be told what to do. (We all get frustrated with that, don’t we?)

When you are younger, you never think that there will be a day that you have to face this kind of pain. It may be part of life, but it is so tough to accept. When you feel so utterly helpless and often hopeless, it is a long journey…

Please read other articles that I have written here:


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