Hello my dear friends,
I always turn to TP when things get rough. I am trying to deal with my feelings of guilt and sadness and grief after the loss of my Dad last year to dementia at 93. I know he had a good long life, mostly free of dementia. I know we looked out for him and cared for him so much in his final years, I know he appreciated life and his family very much when he was himself. I know that in his more lucid moments he was very aware of who his family were and that we were there for him and loved him dearly. I look to him as a hero and role model for my own life as I learned so much from him when he was well, but incredibly, incredibly - so much more from him when he had dementia.
I spent a lot of time with Dad in his last years, very very willingly, but as you all know, it takes its toll. I was not perfect by any manner or means.
So I feel so guilty that in my ignorance (and laziness) I tried to do things with him that were not right for him in hindsight. I regret taking him places I thought would give him pleasure, but which distressed him and disorientated him because of his dementia. I regret my subsequent feelings of anger and dispair that he could not "enjoy" the places I took him to. I regret causing him additional distress when his mind was already in turmoil. I regret hoping that he would be asleep when I visited sometimes because (a) he would be at peace, and (b) I might rest or read or relax, I regret that the home he was in did not have enough windows with nice views for him to look out on, I regret that I only realised after he was gone that the reason why he was standing looking out through opaque bathroom or other windows in the home was because he was used to looking out the windows at home - watching the world go by . I so regret that in the last year of his life he spent a lot of time standing next to opaque windows in the home as there were so few clear windows at the ends of the corridors or across from his room or within easy reach. I regret the heartache I caused him when I was a young wayward adult. I regret how much he missed my mum when she died, I regret not taking him into my home with me, he wanted that but when I had him for trial runs he always wanted to go "home" . I regret not persevering more. I regret the bewilderment he felt at the loss of independence his dementia caused. I am grief stricken with his distress at the invasion of his privacy because he could no longer tend to his own personal care and that he had to resort to aggression to protect his fragile state of mind. I regret that I was out shopping on the morning of the day he was dying and not with him - though I was there when he died and I am so grateful for that - I could not live with myself if he had died while I was shopping.
So many regrets and heartache and grief. Yet I know that sometimes I did ok and I have to remember that too. i am grateful for all the walks and prayers and laughs we shared - right up to the end. I am grateful for all the cross stitch I got done in the mornings when he slept peacefully, I am so grateful that he did sleep peacefully much of the time, i am grateful that he ocassionally found a window with a view. I am grateful that on some of the occasions I took him places he eventually relaxed and said "this is a grand road" or "theres the station" or " that was a great holiday" . I am grateful that the ladies who looked after him when I left to go to work were so kind and loving.
I have been drinking and eating alot this past year and my weight has gone up alot. I realise now, after some counselling that I am punishing myself for all the things I feel horribly guilty about and that I have to forgive myself. I could have done better but I did ok and I can learn from my mistakes to be more compassionate . Dad too was human and not perfect so he will understand and forgive me all the things I let him down on. He told me he loved me and appreciated the good things we did together. My grief is not gone but I think I am turning a corner. Thank you all for listening and being there for me in my hour of need.
Love
Helen xx
I always turn to TP when things get rough. I am trying to deal with my feelings of guilt and sadness and grief after the loss of my Dad last year to dementia at 93. I know he had a good long life, mostly free of dementia. I know we looked out for him and cared for him so much in his final years, I know he appreciated life and his family very much when he was himself. I know that in his more lucid moments he was very aware of who his family were and that we were there for him and loved him dearly. I look to him as a hero and role model for my own life as I learned so much from him when he was well, but incredibly, incredibly - so much more from him when he had dementia.
I spent a lot of time with Dad in his last years, very very willingly, but as you all know, it takes its toll. I was not perfect by any manner or means.
So I feel so guilty that in my ignorance (and laziness) I tried to do things with him that were not right for him in hindsight. I regret taking him places I thought would give him pleasure, but which distressed him and disorientated him because of his dementia. I regret my subsequent feelings of anger and dispair that he could not "enjoy" the places I took him to. I regret causing him additional distress when his mind was already in turmoil. I regret hoping that he would be asleep when I visited sometimes because (a) he would be at peace, and (b) I might rest or read or relax, I regret that the home he was in did not have enough windows with nice views for him to look out on, I regret that I only realised after he was gone that the reason why he was standing looking out through opaque bathroom or other windows in the home was because he was used to looking out the windows at home - watching the world go by . I so regret that in the last year of his life he spent a lot of time standing next to opaque windows in the home as there were so few clear windows at the ends of the corridors or across from his room or within easy reach. I regret the heartache I caused him when I was a young wayward adult. I regret how much he missed my mum when she died, I regret not taking him into my home with me, he wanted that but when I had him for trial runs he always wanted to go "home" . I regret not persevering more. I regret the bewilderment he felt at the loss of independence his dementia caused. I am grief stricken with his distress at the invasion of his privacy because he could no longer tend to his own personal care and that he had to resort to aggression to protect his fragile state of mind. I regret that I was out shopping on the morning of the day he was dying and not with him - though I was there when he died and I am so grateful for that - I could not live with myself if he had died while I was shopping.
So many regrets and heartache and grief. Yet I know that sometimes I did ok and I have to remember that too. i am grateful for all the walks and prayers and laughs we shared - right up to the end. I am grateful for all the cross stitch I got done in the mornings when he slept peacefully, I am so grateful that he did sleep peacefully much of the time, i am grateful that he ocassionally found a window with a view. I am grateful that on some of the occasions I took him places he eventually relaxed and said "this is a grand road" or "theres the station" or " that was a great holiday" . I am grateful that the ladies who looked after him when I left to go to work were so kind and loving.
I have been drinking and eating alot this past year and my weight has gone up alot. I realise now, after some counselling that I am punishing myself for all the things I feel horribly guilty about and that I have to forgive myself. I could have done better but I did ok and I can learn from my mistakes to be more compassionate . Dad too was human and not perfect so he will understand and forgive me all the things I let him down on. He told me he loved me and appreciated the good things we did together. My grief is not gone but I think I am turning a corner. Thank you all for listening and being there for me in my hour of need.
Love
Helen xx
