I do sympathise, Peter, empty house can be so hard in many ways. You had no one to reassure you at the time you had to make the arrangements. You will be free of these thoughts, or they will not affect you so badly but of course it takes time and you are in limbo and the thoughts crowd in.I started the day as usual feeling that the house should be filled with someone else’s voice. She’s in the home and I’m here. No matter how many times people assure me that it’s the best place for her I remain feeling wretched that I placed her there, that she had no say in the matter, that I went behind her back with all the arrangements.
I had no one at the time to advise me differently, on that dreadful day she was taken away. Just when you feel a little respect from it all these thoughts surface once again. I’m afraid I’ll never be free of them
It seems to me that there are certain stages, not inevitable, but pretty common, in our carer ordeal.
Coming to terms with the diagnosis
Staying in touch with life outside the home
Getting increasingly isolated
Coping with more and more challenging stuff
A crisis of some kind bringing up the question of residential care
Coping with our loved one in residential care
Learning to cope with an empty house etc
I so wish you had had support at the crisis time, it has left you with uncertainty and regret. In my case, the medical team at A and E, their first words to me were simply
He's not coming home.
And a best interests meeting almost immediately called said the same thing, equally firmly. You had to decide and react alone, and that is so hard. I believe you acted responsibly to a terribly tough situation. I wish you could accept this. You are a good man.
all fellow feeling, Kindred, Geraldine