Sigh, a big day, just not the kind you ever want to have.
Mom’s physical and mental health has slowly been degrading over the last few years. We did the best we could, first taking care of her ourselves via welfare checks a few times a week (she’s still living in the same house that we grew up in.) After that became insufficient, we shared time with a caregiver, but it came to a point that “it was time.” She sees things that aren’t there, accuses people of things that didn’t happen, says that people are stealing from her (she moves things and forgets), and that strange people are visiting, and it just all painted a picture of where things were heading. We installed security cameras, which of course showed nothing, and suspect that at that stage of life, dreams and reality get mixed together. She also started having angry outbursts, which are easier to understand when viewed from her point of view: people saying things that don’t make sense, things that you absolutely “know for fact” that are wrong. Even so, things couldn’t be allowed keep degrading. When she told the caregiver “you must go home because it’s dark”, in the middle of a sunny day, we know that it was time.
And so, we lied, getting her in the car to go for a “drive to see a garden”, walking her to the front door of the rest home—like walking a friend to the gallows, it just feels very deceitful, and yet, it had to be done. Probably the saddest aspect of this is knowing that with her mix of being hard of hearing, having trouble processing sounds into words even when she does hear them, and being delusional, she’s going to have a difficult or even impossible time carrying on even simple conversations. We worry that she may retreat inward and just shut down.
Or maybe we’ll be completely wrong and she’ll quickly fit in. Uh huh.
That said, we’re extremely fortunate to be able to afford moving her to a rest home. I’m very aware that many people cannot and try to take care of their relative while still holding down a job. As tough as this is emotionally, it could be far worse.
Like I said when dad died, “I accept what’s happening but don’t have to like it.” And yes, the little voice in my head did ask, “so with both of your parents becoming delusional, what do you think that means for you?”