Is this the beginning stages of the final moments?
Does the random stares into space, the pre-occupation with picking at something that isn’t there, with eyes closed, mean that she is moving away from reality, moving towards that final acceptance of giving up?
This isn’t an easy thing to consider, to ponder. I feel helpless and yet defiant too. Is my own change in attitude, my own resentment, a defence mechanism to make these moments easier to handle, or is it something else?
Everyone has their own way of trying to cope, and I think mine is to ignore the future, ignore the signs, which isn’t working. It makes me stressed out, snappy, and just plain angry. And yet, the alternative scares me too much, to want to face it. I know I should, I know I should be doing more, yet I don’t know what.
This is not a journey I want to take, but one I am being forced to take. A wife who dreams for the day of being free of Mom & the associated limitations on our lives, to my own frustrations at not being able to do enough, to prolong the inevitable.