Can’t quite recall when I joined this wonderful forum, but it must have been around 2003/4, my dad having just died, my mum found in need of help, more than we realised. Diagnosis soon followed, she moved in with us and the rest is history. It has been tough. Only my husband and I know just how tough – and you people.
The relationship between mother and daughter, through the teenage years, was seriously bad. Looking back, this was adolescence, but I suppose I had looked to her to know what to do. She didn’t seem to know what to do, and I left home. No going back, even though I wanted this more than anything, but she would never have asked. Having also been through this with our own children I know how bad this must have made her feel.
It was a rough time, things I regret so much, but always secretly loving my parents, never knowing how to tell them, or how to go back. I made of life what I could, alone.
Marriage and children followed – what brilliant and loving grandparents they were. Mum and I were reunited in many ways, but never emotionally. All the help she gave, practically – never enough thankyous. I have always felt lacking, but have tried to be a good daughter. When the dementia was diagnosed, in some strange way, I felt that at last I could show Mum how I felt for her, didn’t have to feel embarrassed , but her living with us for so long, under often difficult circumstances, also took its toll as I tried to do everything for her. Latterly, because of her problems, especially during the night, I felt that the tables had been turned. She was now the stroppy teenager, and I was the mother. It seemed to compound all the emotional problems I have been feeling since a much younger age. We were back at square one. There had been a need to feel loved, but I guess this will never happen now. On another level I know t hat she has lived only for her children..
After many years caring for her, mum is now in specialist care, She seems to hate me still, and whilst I know the disease does this, I still feel that this is the past coming out, and that she will die thinking I am a bad person. I am not. I am kind, and caring, think of her constantly, but it feels too late to tell her. She will never know that I spent many years caring for her to the best of my ability, whilst dealing with all the other stuff life throws at you. Trying to make amends for those years, way back. I know that she would understand this, or should understand, but her confusion and total lack of insight is clouding things. Other family don't visit - I am the only constant, always have been.
At this time I wish I were religious - I am not. I am at rock bottom. Visitng her is hard. All thosw wasted years I suppose. Missed opportunities. Too late.
The relationship between mother and daughter, through the teenage years, was seriously bad. Looking back, this was adolescence, but I suppose I had looked to her to know what to do. She didn’t seem to know what to do, and I left home. No going back, even though I wanted this more than anything, but she would never have asked. Having also been through this with our own children I know how bad this must have made her feel.
It was a rough time, things I regret so much, but always secretly loving my parents, never knowing how to tell them, or how to go back. I made of life what I could, alone.
Marriage and children followed – what brilliant and loving grandparents they were. Mum and I were reunited in many ways, but never emotionally. All the help she gave, practically – never enough thankyous. I have always felt lacking, but have tried to be a good daughter. When the dementia was diagnosed, in some strange way, I felt that at last I could show Mum how I felt for her, didn’t have to feel embarrassed , but her living with us for so long, under often difficult circumstances, also took its toll as I tried to do everything for her. Latterly, because of her problems, especially during the night, I felt that the tables had been turned. She was now the stroppy teenager, and I was the mother. It seemed to compound all the emotional problems I have been feeling since a much younger age. We were back at square one. There had been a need to feel loved, but I guess this will never happen now. On another level I know t hat she has lived only for her children..
After many years caring for her, mum is now in specialist care, She seems to hate me still, and whilst I know the disease does this, I still feel that this is the past coming out, and that she will die thinking I am a bad person. I am not. I am kind, and caring, think of her constantly, but it feels too late to tell her. She will never know that I spent many years caring for her to the best of my ability, whilst dealing with all the other stuff life throws at you. Trying to make amends for those years, way back. I know that she would understand this, or should understand, but her confusion and total lack of insight is clouding things. Other family don't visit - I am the only constant, always have been.
At this time I wish I were religious - I am not. I am at rock bottom. Visitng her is hard. All thosw wasted years I suppose. Missed opportunities. Too late.
