I want Mom to die in her sleep tonight. Without pain, peacefully, not even aware.
I want to wake up tomorrow, go into shock, move through the day in a haze notifying authorities, and those closest to her. Gather The Other Girl and my nephews together for support in the days ahead.
I want to host our family and friends at a lovely funeral that honors all of who Mom is - before and after dementia. I want tears, hugs, laughter, rejoicing that she was a part of us, that our lives are better having known, and stuck by her.
I want them to pat The Other Girl and I on the back, tell us how great we were with her, that she knows now that we were wonderful daughters and did an amazing job at helping her through dementia to the end of her life.
I want all this so I can be released from a growing chasm of fear; fear that I am no longer capable of being amazing with, or for, Mom. That what dementia is bringing to the table will result in my deepest, darkest, ugliest failure. That of all the failures I have pulled off in my life, and there have been many, and they have been spectacular, this will be the worse. Worse than not having been here for Dad when he was struggling as a caregiver - showing up only at the end when his quality of life became irrelevant - quality of death having taken over.
Dementia is looming over my shoulder to teach me lessons about myself I do not want to learn. Today I have no hope that I will survive them.
I want out of dementia.
I lost my father on May 2, 2018. He passed quietly in his sleep. My last memory of him was on his 90th birthday when he was dancing down the hallway and into the elevator on our way to lunch. I chose NOT to view his open casket.
My grandmother also died very peaceful many years ago, but unfortunately my last words to her were an argument and then I saw her in her casket. I was horrified! She did not look anything like my grandmother. Some kind of plastic faced old woman that I did not recognize and now that's my last image of her forever!
I am now a full-time caregiver for my mother with dementia since January.…
Welcome, Janelle! Sounds like we have a commonality in that we have siblings sharing the load. I would be lost, lost, lost without the shared responsibility and support from The Other Girl. Even when we're less then thrilled with each other (read "Welcome to Monsterland, everybody."), she's my lifeline in this journey.
How's the shared care going with your brother?
just stumbled across your blog via a post on alzconnected.org (the pull ups one) and found this too. You are definitely not alone. I'm in Canberra, Australia as is my mother. Only daughter but I have a helpful brother I get on with. Since our Dad died 3 years ago we have realised how much he was supporting Mum. Sadly she was unable to cope without him and is in full time care but that brings another set of challenges. Keep telling it how it is, much better than internalising and possibly self combusting.
Thank you for your honesty!! I feel that way about my mom too, then i feel so guilty because i just want it to be over. But knowing we’re alone is helpful and i hope it gives you as much strength as it given has given me. Gotta go mom just pooped her pants. FML!
Glad things were better today!