She is in hospice. Non-ambulatory and eternally confused and isolated by her progressing dementia, she is in a special category. One that drives up the cost of care dramatically.
So. I emptied my dining room. It is now Myrtle's bedroom and although it has unhinged my home life, I have this unique privilege ... I get to be her mom. It won't be forever, I know. I am very thankful to have an understanding husband and two very cool teenage sons.
That is my brother Brian in the corner. Myrt likes the view. She saw a deer today!
She loves the dog, Holly. That dog stayed close to Myrtle all day, bless her heart.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
I guess we all exhaust ourselves pursuing a goal that moves ever farther away. The future. We row forward toward a future but the current draws us backward to our past. Strangely, I feel like I have a foot in both worlds.
That was day 1.
Ro, I am sitting here as those waves of memories flood me. I too, beat on, trying ceaselessly to move ahead and yet, always being borne back into the past....I feel as though I walk in both of those worlds myself every day. Our classroom was once the room we moved my dad into and I cared for him. All those memories intertwine with the day to day business of schooling Josh now. And sometimes, those echoes are so loud. So near. The memories of moving my father in, dealing with the revolving door of nurses and aids and home health care givers, making sure he took his meds - all of them - like clockwork throughout the day, his feedings - a time strangely I enjoyed as it was just he and I, reading to him by his bedside or watching his favorite "Dancing with the Stars," helping him back to bed when he still could walk, wandering the house, confused about where he was, calling me by my mom's name.... I thought it would go on forever and some part of me would just keep on taking care of him. It was hard, so hard, but he was here, still with me. One particularly difficult day dad was sleeping and I was crying by his bedside. He looked up and said, "Pumpkin, what's wrong?" I replied, "I miss you daddy. I miss you so much." He patted the bed beside him and I climbed up in, like I had done so may times before as a little girl when I needed comforting, or as a young woman, when I had a broken heart... "I'm still here." He softly replied. "I just can't imagine life on earth without you daddy." He gently patted my shoulder and said, "It's ok, you will be okay. I promise. My spirit is going to be with God and my body is going back to this wonderful earth. But I will always be here with you. I will always be a part of you." Soon after, he left this world, and me along in it. Some days I seem to sail smoothly into the present and then other turbulent days, am thrust back into the past, reliving those moments. But so, I row on.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing this journey as difficult as it is. It helps, sharing. Suffering I think unites us in humanity and reminds us that we are not alone.
It seems my son has commandeered my profile. lol But it's Suzanne Cranmer - in case you were wondering who "Syler Phantom" was.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing, Suzanne ❤️❤️❤️
DeleteAnd another Suzanne to comment here...O'Brien, the original! LOL! What a beautiful gift you have been given to care for your sweet mama in this way. No doubt it will be a trying and seemingly daunting journey. But stay the course and savor this time! These memories will bring you comfort like no other Rosemary. I promise. I know. Your sweet family is so wonderful! They will help you...let them. This is a brave blog you are nursing and it will help so many other families! Prayers for Mrs. W...great memories here of a sweet lady and wonderful friends!
ReplyDelete