Going It Alone
It isn’t a subject I really want to think about, call it perhaps Denial, but then again, maybe it is simply a case of not wanting to face the reality of life. I mean, we are born, we live for however long we do, then we die. It is just that, nothing more, nothing less, unless we are fortunate to have some special gift, talent, that will let our lives be remembered.
My own life, will not be remembered by many, if any, and yet it hasn’t been an issue, at least not until now.
Mom is 92, going on 93, and she too will not have many who will remember her. Even my pathetic attempt at trying to make this site for her, will more than likely pass off into the vastness of cyberspace, an odd visitor or two, and that will be it.
I never really realized, just how much a loving partner can play in one’s life. I used to fight, argue with Dad, and yet I see how much Mom longs for him, even now, and I wonder, will David feel that way about me, when I have left this earth? Maybe I am spending too much time, thinking about what is coming, or maybe not enough?
This life is fragile, one can go at any time, and Mom has had a good run. I know that, and I know too that she is in pain, but fights on. Yet death will be a release, and yet too, if one believes in God & heaven, she’ll finally be re-united with her soul-mate, Dad. As much as that should comfort me, it doesn’t. Call it selfishness, or whatever, but I want to cling on, to hold her with me, though I know the end is coming. Not today, next month, or even maybe next year, but coming it is, which makes me tremble.
Yet wanting that, I still find the daily tasks annoying, making me irritable, angry, and depressed. I find fault, or talk to myself about her, in a not so loving way. It makes me think of being a bad person, & yet deep down, I want her to be here, to be able to look over and see her reading her book, or the newspaper. It is a total contradiction of emotions, that leave me confused, dazed even. And yet, this is the life I lead, and refuse to change.
I know one should have ‘the talk’ with those who face death daily, such as Mom. I am sure she wonders about what it will be like, if she will meet up with the spirits of Dad, of her parents, siblings, or will it just be an emptiness. I guess, I too, think about that, though try not to.
While there is lots of stuff, about having that ‘talk‘ there is really nothing about who is there to talk to me, the one giving the talk? How do we, manage to cope with dealing with that eventuality? I suppose it is a bit selfish, but there is a feeling of emptiness, of becoming alone, that frightens me. Will David be there for me? or is it already too much for him?
Frankly I think it is too much for him, not even sure how he has managed all these months, as it is, and I know, it is only going to get worse really. I mean if she lingers, if her condition goes from being semi mobile, to immobility, what then? How will he cope with that, and how will he adjust, or will he?
Hell, how will I cope? I am already feeling worn out, broken and just exhausted, but who is there to talk to? David is the love of my life, yet he is not there, or not willing to be there. That hurts, and makes it even more overwhelming, more desperate. I don’t know anymore, where one turns, where one breaks out of the self imposed isolation, that this task creates.
Now I Don’t Talk Enough
Ever had those days, when nothing you do seems to please, or is enough?
I think this is one of them, in a growing long line of them, which makes me question, if I can survive this? I wonder too, how it impacts David, and yet I can’t dwell on that, or on how I feel so exhausted, an hour or less, after waking up. It is almost like a conspiracy, to deny a moment’s peace, and yet, I still believe, that it is the right thing.
Like today’s worker, Yvette. Nice lady, competent too, or so I thought, but frankly the last couple of visits, leaves me wondering. And it has an impact on Mom too. I mean how can you put depends on a person, and leave them at half mast? Then you spend extra time, discussing how shoddy things are in the world, I mean it is becoming very confusing.
I think too, the lack of communication with others, is taking its toll. Not just on me, but on Mom. Now she says I don’t talk enough, yet each time I ask her if she is okay, if she wants something, or get up and get myself a drink, she doesn’t even look up from her book, at times. Yet I am not talking enough.
There is no book on this stuff, least not one that isn’t clinical, and speaks from the heart. I mean, this isn’t easy when you have a deep emotional connection, with the other. And let’s face it, she is dying. I hate to think that, but it is reality, simply because of her age. I mean she doesn’t have 20 or 30 years ahead of her. That is reality, but where is it written on how to cope with it?
Yes, it makes me angry, scared too, but there is no one to discuss it with, to talk it over with, who isn’t going to respond with the age old reply: “well the older they get…” which infuriates me. I know things break down, but all a guy wants, is someone to understand, not pass judgement, not render sage words of wisdom from on high. I can read the bible for that, but yet, I don’t know.
This is not easy, that is about the only constant I can see here, that it isn’t easy, nor will it get easier, or better. Things will get worse, and that scares me.
Heat, Drinking, & Dehydration
I think one of the biggest issues I have, in caring for Mom, is in getting her to do things, that she needs to do, to stay healthy.
Take the simple matter of drinking enough fluids.
I have never seen someone so stubborn, in not drinking enough fluids. I get her the kind of juices she wants, which isn’t the problem. I think, perhaps it has to do with her ability to swallow.
At times, she does choke on the smallest things, but while it is frightening, if she wants to stay healthy, she needs to drink more liquids. Especially on days when it is hot. Now, sure the house feels cool, thanks to the fans running, but it is still hot, and so she has to drink more.
One of those things, that tests one mettle, because it is frustrating as hell.
