I spent some time recently looking back at old posts. I found it quite engrossing watching the journey I've been having. As older TP members know, my mother has had a very interesting disease progress. I've had many difficult times, times when I wanted everything to be over, times when I didn't care.
Now my mother has moved into the last stage. She still responds (usually) by looking in my direction when I speak. She rarely speaks and if she does, it's just a word or two. She is no longer violent and aggressive. She's confined to a wheelchair, doubly incontinent and cannot feed herself. I visit Saturdays & Sundays and whenever our work schedules permit it. I feed her and tidy her room. She is only 71 and other than AD and atrial fibrillation (just developed in the last 6 months) is quite healthy. Her appetite is fantastic. We've reached an equilbrium.
I guess I'm feeling a little melancholic because I think I would rather have the out of control, violent, aggressive swearing mother back. I think of the lines from Dylan Thomas's poem:
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"
That's what my mother did for such a long time. Now she's moved into another phase and I recognize it and don't like it. But what is, is. Whether I like it or not, or accept it or not, won't make a bit of difference.
So I try to make the most of the limited time we have left. We had a incredibly close mother-daughter relationship. Before her illness, I would have sworn no one in the world had a closer relationship. I hero-worshiped her. She was my rock, my emotion centre, the most important person in my universe. I would give so much to hear her say once more in her slightly tart and acerbic manner 'Now, Joanne....".
Thank you for letting me ramble.
Now my mother has moved into the last stage. She still responds (usually) by looking in my direction when I speak. She rarely speaks and if she does, it's just a word or two. She is no longer violent and aggressive. She's confined to a wheelchair, doubly incontinent and cannot feed herself. I visit Saturdays & Sundays and whenever our work schedules permit it. I feed her and tidy her room. She is only 71 and other than AD and atrial fibrillation (just developed in the last 6 months) is quite healthy. Her appetite is fantastic. We've reached an equilbrium.
I guess I'm feeling a little melancholic because I think I would rather have the out of control, violent, aggressive swearing mother back. I think of the lines from Dylan Thomas's poem:
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"
That's what my mother did for such a long time. Now she's moved into another phase and I recognize it and don't like it. But what is, is. Whether I like it or not, or accept it or not, won't make a bit of difference.
So I try to make the most of the limited time we have left. We had a incredibly close mother-daughter relationship. Before her illness, I would have sworn no one in the world had a closer relationship. I hero-worshiped her. She was my rock, my emotion centre, the most important person in my universe. I would give so much to hear her say once more in her slightly tart and acerbic manner 'Now, Joanne....".
Thank you for letting me ramble.