There is the ageless question of why bad things happen to good people. It perplexes me especially when I think of my parents, specifically my Mom. I took Dad to see Mom yesterday. It is always a mood killer seeing Mom. I told my therapist that no amount of psychiatric drugs could change the way I feel after I see Mom and I would not want to change the way I feel, honestly. She agreed.
Mom is going down hill so fast. The nurses keep finding her on her knees and they are not sure how she got there so they had a doctor check her out. We think she is shimmying down from her chair to the floor because she is really having trouble getting out of the chair. She needs several tries to get up. They found nothing wrong with her besides the obvious fact that her brain is dying.
What did she do to deserve this? Why couldn’t my Mom be like most other Moms?
I try to remember her similar to this:
I’ve talked about my Mom a lot on the blog. It is such a big part of my life. Her decent into post partum depression after my brother was born and maybe late schizophrenia type of behavior changed her though now and then the old caring Mom poked through like in the above picture. She was in the early stages of dementia and loved watching the Patriots with Dad. She’d get so worked up during the games.
The dementia would come to take the life out of her face, her ability to find words and talk, everything really. It took a lot of the family. I leave from visiting Mom and want to curl up and cry. It saps a lot out of me to sit with her for 30 minutes when she won’t look at me or talk to me. I don’t really care that she can’t remember who I am since it was bound to happen but fighting to take away a book so she will look at you is a mental challenge. That book is more important to her.
Dad and I talked about how this Thanksgiving will be the first holiday without her. She is alive but gone. It is going to suck. We will have to think about what we are going to do. That is really what brought on this post.