Hi friends
Some of you will already know me. Mum died in November 2008. She hadn't had AD for long, abour 18 months that were problematic, though we now realise that symptoms were arising as much as 5 (or more) years ago. But Dad was alive until late 2004 and though he said to me "your mum is losing it", I took no notice and dad sorted her out without complaint. The symptoms developed very rapidly in the Spring of 2007 and she went into a Care Home. I hated "putting" her there, but I now realise I had no choice, and it was the best thing for her once she got used to it (which took longer than I thought).
Her main problem was having no conception of time. Day was night, and vice versa. She would go to bed at 10 p.m. and be up again a 1 a.m. wanting breakfast. She was starting to get verbally aggressive, though I prefer the description "upset" as she would never have hit anyone at that time. In fact, in most ways she was a model resident, the staff said so.
Her behaviour was becoming more problematic with her hallucinating and accusing members of staff of attacking her or abducting her, though during the daytime these accusations seemed to be forgotten mostly. Funding her was a nightmare, she was self-funding and I spent £55,000 out of the proceeds of the sale of her little cottage to buy an insurance plan, which in the end we never used. Managing the funding until it kicked it was a nightmare, and in the current economic climate my plan would probably have failed.
But one day in November 2008, mum got up and had a fall. Not serious, but the staff noticed her wheezing when they went to check her out. They called the doctor, and called me, and I went over. At lunch time the doctor had not arrived so mum happily went down for her lunch - always had a good appetite. First bite and she appeared to choke. A member of staff applied the Heimlich technique and I think that within minutes mum was dead. They applied heart massage and mouth to mouth, but nothing worked. It was a shock, but hey, when your time is up, please let it be quick. That was my response. At the time.
I never had a particularly good relationship with mum, well, never really had one at all. Apologies if I am repeating this to people who have listened to me before, but my mum was the woman who cooked my dinner, kept the house clean, washed my clothes, gave me my bus fare to school. She was also the woman who never told me what periods were till I ran home from school one day with blood in my pants and she said "here, put this belt on and attach a pad", and never discussed feelings. Mum didn't do feelings. She just got on with her life, and I suppose there is a lot to be said for that. But in the 1960s people started to think about feelings. Mum didn't move with the times. She remained a 1940s post-war housewife all her life. And she was only 23 in 1940.
So, I never had a meaningful discussion about anything with my mum. Never had a cuddle past the age of about 3. I got a kiss on the cheek at Christmas. I was a latchkey kid from the age of 5, some big girls took me to school and brought me back till I was about 7, then I did my own thing. I hated them and they hated the responsibility of me. I used to go next door to borrow a key to let myself home from the age of 5, and shivered in the house in winter cos I didn't dare light the fire.
When I was in my late teens, all mum seemed to want to do was "marry me off" to anyone and everyone who was male and had a job. She didn't seem remotely bothered as to whether they were suitable for me, would be good for me, or interested in thinking about it.
Once I was married, all mum seemed to do was nag me to start a family. My husband and I had difficulties, we had 3 years of consultations with an infertility specialist and I had an operation to determine possible problems. Mum wasn't interested. I'm not even sure that I told her about the problems. Probably not.
Eventually we had two daughters, wonderful people, now grown up. I had two major operations when they were little, the first when the youngest was less than 1 year old, the second when they were aged about 10 and 7. We shipped in my mother and father in law to help out, as mum made no effort to offer any support. I can't understand why. She just didn't. And we didn't feel free to ask. My in-laws were a pain (well dad in law was, mum in law was a dream really), but at least they helped. We have no siblings who could have helped.
We saw mum and dad every Sunday after they both retired. I loved their weekly vists, cos dad always had something interesting to discuss, some plan for the future, some argument to resolve. But when he died in 2004, mum's weekly visits were a chore. She only lived 4 miles away, so it was hardly onerous to get her, take her to Tesco, bring her to us for a cuppa for a couple of hours and take her home again. But, oh so boring. We struggled to maintain a conversation for the duration of the visit.
Anyway, she went into the care home in August 2007, and visits were similarly boring. But she relished them. I was her daughter visiting, and she would tell everyone who I was. She was so proud that I visited and even more proud when my daugters visited her, though less often that me. I visited about twice a week. I know I could have gone more often, but it was so boring that I couldn't face any more time of sitting there with nothing to say. What do you say to a woman with no hobbies, no interests, no interest in you? And never has had?
I just sat there with nothing to say.
And then she died.
My first thought was that she always said that when her time came she wanted to go quick and without suffering, and that certainly seemed to be the case. So I was "happy" with that.
But 4 months on, and I miss her. My dad has been dead for nearly 5 years and I loved him to bits, he was my best friend, but I miss my mum more. Is it because she was dependent on me do you think? I was her sole source of joy in her last 18 months, the sight of me lit up her face (this woman who had not really bothered with me as a teenager or adult). I find it all quite odd.
It is bothering me. I am not heartbroken or similar, it is just bothering me. Why am I still so "attached to her"? Was she actually a better mother than I think she was? And I hadn't realised it? I don't know. I am so confused.
Well that was going to be the end of this post, but part way through my husband decided to play an old video which included my mum and dad at a family celebration. There was my lovely dad, of course, but also my little boring mum - and on the video she wasn't boring at all, but a bright spark with my two daughters.
Anyway, that's my story so far.
I feel so flat.
Margaret
Some of you will already know me. Mum died in November 2008. She hadn't had AD for long, abour 18 months that were problematic, though we now realise that symptoms were arising as much as 5 (or more) years ago. But Dad was alive until late 2004 and though he said to me "your mum is losing it", I took no notice and dad sorted her out without complaint. The symptoms developed very rapidly in the Spring of 2007 and she went into a Care Home. I hated "putting" her there, but I now realise I had no choice, and it was the best thing for her once she got used to it (which took longer than I thought).
Her main problem was having no conception of time. Day was night, and vice versa. She would go to bed at 10 p.m. and be up again a 1 a.m. wanting breakfast. She was starting to get verbally aggressive, though I prefer the description "upset" as she would never have hit anyone at that time. In fact, in most ways she was a model resident, the staff said so.
Her behaviour was becoming more problematic with her hallucinating and accusing members of staff of attacking her or abducting her, though during the daytime these accusations seemed to be forgotten mostly. Funding her was a nightmare, she was self-funding and I spent £55,000 out of the proceeds of the sale of her little cottage to buy an insurance plan, which in the end we never used. Managing the funding until it kicked it was a nightmare, and in the current economic climate my plan would probably have failed.
But one day in November 2008, mum got up and had a fall. Not serious, but the staff noticed her wheezing when they went to check her out. They called the doctor, and called me, and I went over. At lunch time the doctor had not arrived so mum happily went down for her lunch - always had a good appetite. First bite and she appeared to choke. A member of staff applied the Heimlich technique and I think that within minutes mum was dead. They applied heart massage and mouth to mouth, but nothing worked. It was a shock, but hey, when your time is up, please let it be quick. That was my response. At the time.
I never had a particularly good relationship with mum, well, never really had one at all. Apologies if I am repeating this to people who have listened to me before, but my mum was the woman who cooked my dinner, kept the house clean, washed my clothes, gave me my bus fare to school. She was also the woman who never told me what periods were till I ran home from school one day with blood in my pants and she said "here, put this belt on and attach a pad", and never discussed feelings. Mum didn't do feelings. She just got on with her life, and I suppose there is a lot to be said for that. But in the 1960s people started to think about feelings. Mum didn't move with the times. She remained a 1940s post-war housewife all her life. And she was only 23 in 1940.
So, I never had a meaningful discussion about anything with my mum. Never had a cuddle past the age of about 3. I got a kiss on the cheek at Christmas. I was a latchkey kid from the age of 5, some big girls took me to school and brought me back till I was about 7, then I did my own thing. I hated them and they hated the responsibility of me. I used to go next door to borrow a key to let myself home from the age of 5, and shivered in the house in winter cos I didn't dare light the fire.
When I was in my late teens, all mum seemed to want to do was "marry me off" to anyone and everyone who was male and had a job. She didn't seem remotely bothered as to whether they were suitable for me, would be good for me, or interested in thinking about it.
Once I was married, all mum seemed to do was nag me to start a family. My husband and I had difficulties, we had 3 years of consultations with an infertility specialist and I had an operation to determine possible problems. Mum wasn't interested. I'm not even sure that I told her about the problems. Probably not.
Eventually we had two daughters, wonderful people, now grown up. I had two major operations when they were little, the first when the youngest was less than 1 year old, the second when they were aged about 10 and 7. We shipped in my mother and father in law to help out, as mum made no effort to offer any support. I can't understand why. She just didn't. And we didn't feel free to ask. My in-laws were a pain (well dad in law was, mum in law was a dream really), but at least they helped. We have no siblings who could have helped.
We saw mum and dad every Sunday after they both retired. I loved their weekly vists, cos dad always had something interesting to discuss, some plan for the future, some argument to resolve. But when he died in 2004, mum's weekly visits were a chore. She only lived 4 miles away, so it was hardly onerous to get her, take her to Tesco, bring her to us for a cuppa for a couple of hours and take her home again. But, oh so boring. We struggled to maintain a conversation for the duration of the visit.
Anyway, she went into the care home in August 2007, and visits were similarly boring. But she relished them. I was her daughter visiting, and she would tell everyone who I was. She was so proud that I visited and even more proud when my daugters visited her, though less often that me. I visited about twice a week. I know I could have gone more often, but it was so boring that I couldn't face any more time of sitting there with nothing to say. What do you say to a woman with no hobbies, no interests, no interest in you? And never has had?
I just sat there with nothing to say.
And then she died.
My first thought was that she always said that when her time came she wanted to go quick and without suffering, and that certainly seemed to be the case. So I was "happy" with that.
But 4 months on, and I miss her. My dad has been dead for nearly 5 years and I loved him to bits, he was my best friend, but I miss my mum more. Is it because she was dependent on me do you think? I was her sole source of joy in her last 18 months, the sight of me lit up her face (this woman who had not really bothered with me as a teenager or adult). I find it all quite odd.
It is bothering me. I am not heartbroken or similar, it is just bothering me. Why am I still so "attached to her"? Was she actually a better mother than I think she was? And I hadn't realised it? I don't know. I am so confused.
Well that was going to be the end of this post, but part way through my husband decided to play an old video which included my mum and dad at a family celebration. There was my lovely dad, of course, but also my little boring mum - and on the video she wasn't boring at all, but a bright spark with my two daughters.
Anyway, that's my story so far.
I feel so flat.
Margaret
