Hello MollyMae.
I know that my comments won't help you feel any different, but I can really empathise with you. You do have my sincere condolences and sympathy.
My Mum passed away on March 16th this year.
I'm not going to say or even hazard a guess at what you're feeling right now, but I will let you know how I'm feeling right now, and it may help to let you realise that you're not on your own.
My Mum was diagnosed with dementia in 2011. During the process, I had to deal with several issues caused by a sibling relating to Mum that added to the anguish that already existed.
Over the years, it was painful for all involved. Mum, initially, couldn't understand why she was in a care home. So, to see her each time, and have her asking when she could go home was hard.
As her illness progressed, and she started slipping further and further away, that's when it really started to hit me.
I didn't live in the area where she was being cared for, and was only able to get up to see her every couple of weeks. Because of that gap and because I used to attend from work on my own, I could see the difference in my Mum's condition and it used to knock me for six, to the extent that I struggled to stay with her for more than an hour or so.
Because of that, I felt guilt. But, at the same time, I didn't want Mum to see me crying or getting upset. So it really was a bit of a catch 22 situation.
With our case, I knew that she was being very well looked after by the home, and also had the knowledge and comfort that she was being visited regularly by other more local family.
As Mum deteriorated further, I didn't think that it would be possible, but I found it even harder to see her, although I did continue to see her.
Just before Christmas 2014, she fell ill with an infection. And it was then that I noticed that her "spark" had all but disappeared and I had a distinct feeling that she wouldn't be with us for much longer.
When she finally passed away, like you, I did (and still do) have very mixed emotions.
With myself, I know that I had a great life with Mum before her illness, and up until the last three or four months, I had the honour of still being able to make my Mum laugh. Those memories have all helped massively!
My first feelings and emotions were of immense relief for her, because I knew that she would no longer be suffering. I also have the belief that she is now with others that she loves.
I was VERY surprised at how little grief I actually felt, and even asked my wife whether or not I was "normal" because of that!!!
However, after thinking about everything, I realised that I had said my goodbyes to my Mum over a long period of time. I had been grieving for her pretty much none stop since she was first diagnosed with this most cruel of illnesses and also when it began to really take hold of her.
All that was left in me after she passed away, I discovered, was plain & simple sadness.
Sadness about the fact that such a wonderful person was stricken down with such a cruel illness. Sadness about the fact that she will never meet the grandchild that we're soon going to be bringing into the world. Basically, sadness about everything.
Everything is still very raw with me, however, I feel that already I am slowly moving on.
Basically, I think that what I'm trying to say to you, is that there is no right or wrong way to feel. There is no timescale that you should place on your feelings can have.
With my Mum, I know full well that she'd punch me on one of my arms and call me a "narna" if I let her death drag me down too much. So, I'm going to remember our happy times together before the illness and also the (what I call) "magic times" when she'd have a lucid moment during her illness and see me actually as "me".
I would like to think that your Mum would be of the same ilk and would wish that she is remembered for who she was, not the resultant sadness that her condition brought.
One thing that I am aiming to do very soon, is to make a DVD containing lots of photographs of Mum and the family and have them showing to some of Mum's favourite music. That way, not only will I be able to remind myself of all of the happy times that we all had as I make the disk, but I also know full well that I'll be able to smile as I'm making it.
My Mum's funeral is next week.
MollyMae, never stop smiling & please do your best to keep strong.
Kindest regards.
Duncan.
