Hello lovely friends. I am trying to work today but sadness keeps washing over me and I am feeling very alone. So I thought I would reach out to you.
Mum was declared "end of life" by her GP 20 days ago. She is now bedridden and taking medication to improve her quality of life, which will also likely shorten it. The care home have been told not to call the ambulance again so it is just a matter of time before another bout of aspiration pneumonia, or another heart attack or stoke carry her off.
For the first week after this news I was all over the place emotionally but, as always with my Mum's condition which deteriorates in sudden stages, after the initial shock I adjusted to the new normal. I don't know how much time I have remaining with Mum (days? weeks? months?) but the time we are spending together feels special. Her multiple physical problems are acute but she is fairly comfortable in bed.
She is reasonable lucid, in an rather sweetly demented way, so we can reminisce and sing together when she feels up to it. She is so fragile and vulnerable, grey skin and sharp bones, but bright blue eyes. Some days feel good and right, but some days break my heart. She cries a lot and says she wants to die, but sometimes says she is happy as she keeps drifting off to a nice place to be with my dad.
I feed her like a baby and hold her in my arms. I have never had children so I am discovering wells of nurturing in me I never knew were there - the odd satisfaction of getting her to eat a yoghurt, spooning the yoghurt into her mouth, encouraging her and wiping her mouth, thinking "this is how she must have once cared for me ".
I can see that I am privileged to have this time with her, and there is much that is beautiful about having a chance to put things right in my difficult relationship with her. This is a huge and good thing. But sometimes the pain is too much to bear and I struggle to carry on with life as normal, though I have to try because this could last for months, or finish today.
What I was wondering is, when you care for a parent, have you found that it affects how you feel about your own life and death? In the midst of grieving Mum I also seem to be grieving my own life. I am 56 and am feeling very middle aged - exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, fat and unhealthy from comfort eating and drinking to get by, depressed by the short winter days and wondering - what's the ****ing point of anything? I have a successful career and a good marriage but I am left wondering, why try so hard to make a good life when it will likely end in this degrading and depressing way?
Mum said sadly yesterday that she had lost the ability to laugh and I said "When the laughter has gone, love remains". And yes this is true and sounds beautiful, but it is a love is so full of tears that it is both wonderful and painful at the same time.
People used to comment on how much I looked like my Mum. Now I look in the mirror to put cream on my lips and see my mother's chapped lips instead (and her mouth full of gaps and rotting teeth). As I watch my Mum's skull become visible as her fat and muscle fade away, I imagine what my skull must look like under my flesh. I fear my own old age and death, knowing I will not have any family to care for me as I have cared for my mother these past few years. Thank God I have a caring husband, but he is older than me so I will likely die alone.
I realise I have enough to cope with right now without worrying about my own aging, dying, and death. But somehow watching my own mother decay seems like a preview of what lies ahead for me and I am frightened and depressed.
Please could someone give me a "smack upside the head", or advice, or a cuddle or something to help me to stop making the situation even worse than it currently is.
Thank you.
ChloeE
Mum was declared "end of life" by her GP 20 days ago. She is now bedridden and taking medication to improve her quality of life, which will also likely shorten it. The care home have been told not to call the ambulance again so it is just a matter of time before another bout of aspiration pneumonia, or another heart attack or stoke carry her off.
For the first week after this news I was all over the place emotionally but, as always with my Mum's condition which deteriorates in sudden stages, after the initial shock I adjusted to the new normal. I don't know how much time I have remaining with Mum (days? weeks? months?) but the time we are spending together feels special. Her multiple physical problems are acute but she is fairly comfortable in bed.
She is reasonable lucid, in an rather sweetly demented way, so we can reminisce and sing together when she feels up to it. She is so fragile and vulnerable, grey skin and sharp bones, but bright blue eyes. Some days feel good and right, but some days break my heart. She cries a lot and says she wants to die, but sometimes says she is happy as she keeps drifting off to a nice place to be with my dad.
I feed her like a baby and hold her in my arms. I have never had children so I am discovering wells of nurturing in me I never knew were there - the odd satisfaction of getting her to eat a yoghurt, spooning the yoghurt into her mouth, encouraging her and wiping her mouth, thinking "this is how she must have once cared for me ".
I can see that I am privileged to have this time with her, and there is much that is beautiful about having a chance to put things right in my difficult relationship with her. This is a huge and good thing. But sometimes the pain is too much to bear and I struggle to carry on with life as normal, though I have to try because this could last for months, or finish today.
What I was wondering is, when you care for a parent, have you found that it affects how you feel about your own life and death? In the midst of grieving Mum I also seem to be grieving my own life. I am 56 and am feeling very middle aged - exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, fat and unhealthy from comfort eating and drinking to get by, depressed by the short winter days and wondering - what's the ****ing point of anything? I have a successful career and a good marriage but I am left wondering, why try so hard to make a good life when it will likely end in this degrading and depressing way?
Mum said sadly yesterday that she had lost the ability to laugh and I said "When the laughter has gone, love remains". And yes this is true and sounds beautiful, but it is a love is so full of tears that it is both wonderful and painful at the same time.
People used to comment on how much I looked like my Mum. Now I look in the mirror to put cream on my lips and see my mother's chapped lips instead (and her mouth full of gaps and rotting teeth). As I watch my Mum's skull become visible as her fat and muscle fade away, I imagine what my skull must look like under my flesh. I fear my own old age and death, knowing I will not have any family to care for me as I have cared for my mother these past few years. Thank God I have a caring husband, but he is older than me so I will likely die alone.
I realise I have enough to cope with right now without worrying about my own aging, dying, and death. But somehow watching my own mother decay seems like a preview of what lies ahead for me and I am frightened and depressed.
Please could someone give me a "smack upside the head", or advice, or a cuddle or something to help me to stop making the situation even worse than it currently is.
Thank you.
ChloeE
