Dear Rachel,
I lost my dear mum 6 months ago, and want to reassure you that what you feel is ok. I felt like that for such a long time, and I felt guilty admitting it, but here people will understand. The torment and distress that comes with watching someone stripped of their personality and love of life...well, as Nanak says, you wouldn't leave an animal suffering like that...
I remember the darkest days, and I compare them to what you are experiencing now. I asked "how long...?" and I wished it was over. The future seemed grim. But there is a quiet time to come, and that is when you get to think and when you get to "be" with your mum. My husband described it as the eye of the storm. There is chaos and disruption on either side, but in the eye of the storm there is peace.
My mum went through many stages, and when I think back to them now I question how on earth I functioned. It was awful. But then one of her stages was the one where she needed 24 hour nursing care and was bed-bound. That was the eye of the storm. I would spend every visit sitting by her bedside, talking, holding her hand, painting her nails, brushing her hair... I would sing along with the radio, and talk as if she could respond. But she couldn't. She was calm, and I was compassionate. You can afford that when your mum is so poorly and vulnerable. It's a time to say everything you want to, and be sure they can hear it. I would cry more then, but the tears were for her, and less so for me. The darkest days...I think the tears were for me as much as her.
It all goes in stages, and this is probably the worst. But the calm does come.
The other side of the storm is the loss. That's a whole new stage, but one we experience alone, as the suffering has finished for our loved-one. The realisation only hits home once they've gone... When you're living it, there's no time to take stock, so that bit comes much later.
Dementia has a lot to answer for, and my heart goes out to you and so many others still struggling to take on this monster. My mum has been released, so now I can miss her properly as a daughter without a mum. Just a mum, not a dementia sufferer.
Sending much love and understanding, xxx
I lost my dear mum 6 months ago, and want to reassure you that what you feel is ok. I felt like that for such a long time, and I felt guilty admitting it, but here people will understand. The torment and distress that comes with watching someone stripped of their personality and love of life...well, as Nanak says, you wouldn't leave an animal suffering like that...
I remember the darkest days, and I compare them to what you are experiencing now. I asked "how long...?" and I wished it was over. The future seemed grim. But there is a quiet time to come, and that is when you get to think and when you get to "be" with your mum. My husband described it as the eye of the storm. There is chaos and disruption on either side, but in the eye of the storm there is peace.
My mum went through many stages, and when I think back to them now I question how on earth I functioned. It was awful. But then one of her stages was the one where she needed 24 hour nursing care and was bed-bound. That was the eye of the storm. I would spend every visit sitting by her bedside, talking, holding her hand, painting her nails, brushing her hair... I would sing along with the radio, and talk as if she could respond. But she couldn't. She was calm, and I was compassionate. You can afford that when your mum is so poorly and vulnerable. It's a time to say everything you want to, and be sure they can hear it. I would cry more then, but the tears were for her, and less so for me. The darkest days...I think the tears were for me as much as her.
It all goes in stages, and this is probably the worst. But the calm does come.
The other side of the storm is the loss. That's a whole new stage, but one we experience alone, as the suffering has finished for our loved-one. The realisation only hits home once they've gone... When you're living it, there's no time to take stock, so that bit comes much later.
Dementia has a lot to answer for, and my heart goes out to you and so many others still struggling to take on this monster. My mum has been released, so now I can miss her properly as a daughter without a mum. Just a mum, not a dementia sufferer.
Sending much love and understanding, xxx