New Leaf
Well-Known Member
Oh Copa, I am dredging up memories, I apologize.I was over my head. That is when my depression began. I was truly over my head in a nightmare which has still not stopped.
A binder would have been a good idea. Except if they let her go alone...would they really have respected a binder. How hard is dying. Sometimes.
Leafy, it is painful to read about your mother. Do it anyway. We need to know. Only by sharing will you find a way to do this and to help your mother do so. I am sorry that you are both going through this. I wish it could be easier.
COPA
It seems to have been the day for that.
Mom is pretty sharp, but I see that she is scared.I wish I could be here to see her through this, I live so far away.
Mom doesn't want anyone to live with her.She wants her independence, but at the same time wants someone there at Dr.s appointments and such. She has always been regimented, clean to a fault. This is not a criticism, just an observation. What was I thinking, bringing this entourage to her home? Big sister came up and gently suggested we go to the farm, that has restrictions, well water, limited showering. I am thankful we could take off to my brothers. Mom was literally hurrying us on our way, then as the car was leaving, instantaneously sad.
She is in the "in between" functioning in the physical world, but doing the heavy work of realizing her eventuality. We are not allowed to mention cancer. " I've still got this "thing" in me you know." She says sternly.
I am thrown into view and review mode. Walking through her house seeing familiar antiques, thumbing through photo albums, past and present intertwine. I am remembering, holding on to thoughts and memories, sewing up patchy areas to understand my life's quilt, and what makes me, me.
We spoke a bit about my two "difficults", not too long, because it is too painful for Mom. "You know I wrote them both letters, telling them family is everything, life is short. They didn't even bother writing me back."
They are in an "in between" of their own. Having a life to live, but numbing reality out with drugs.
We are going through intergenerational parallelisms, Mom walking the tightrope of life and death, I, crossing through past and present, my two girls, in a mystic drug induced hazy zombie world, hovering away from whatever pains them when they are sober.
I am thankful for your comments through your experiences, but sorry to stir up those memories for you. It is definitely a hard time. Another one of life's passages, that ensures we will never remain the same.
Leafy