I can honestly understand why most people do not want the responsibility for looking after their parents when they get older. Your life does change a lot, and it does intrude into your own relationships, and yes, in work as well. I know it has for me, and I also know, it is not going to better in the near future.
Mom is 91 years old, and since Monday I have had to re-adjust my entire work schedule, which I already adjusted to be able to look after her. I mean I work from home, because someone has to be here, even though she was pretty self reliant. I mean she could dress herself, get her own breakfast, and all that, but there were the odd mishaps, the odd little fall. Then too, there is the house keeping, and well, years ago I made the choice, to stay with her, to provide the necessary support for her and Dad.
When Dad passed away, things changed a bit, but not much. David & I still had our own lives, and the time needed to be a care giver wasn’t all that much. I mean when she wasn’t feeling good, sure it meant a bit more time but those weren’t lengthy times. Still, it made it easier for her, to make sure the pills were ordered, to make sure she had her blood tests done, and all that stuff.
Yet now, things are changing. She is having trouble just getting out of a chair, though she can still manage to dress herself. Breakfast is now once more my obligation, to make sure she eats. Lunch and dinner are also up to me, and yes it does intrude into the work schedule. I mean it isn’t easy to just drop what you are doing because you need to go fix lunch, but then, who else is going to do it?
It isn’t like we can afford to hire someone for it, though the Government is gracious enough to give tax credits if we do, but you know, you have to earn the money first, and have earned enough to where a tax cut or credit, can be useful. And that rather ticks me off, because I am paying taxes on what I earn, but can’t take any deductions for working from home. See if I am a care giver, for a stranger, I can claim some things, but if it is for a relative, well tough luck. Now that seems wrong to me, but those are the rules today, so nothing I can do about that.
I am not going to stop looking after Mom, because it is economically hard, or even mentally hard, which it is. I mean that is perhaps the greatest problem one has to cope with, when being a care giver for a parent. The stress is unreal, tough at the time you don’t really notice it, until the day is winding down. It makes it hard to get up in the morning, and makes you not want to go to sleep too. It is a vicious circle, but then, for me it would be worse if I passed it off, or put her in a home. Again that would be if I could afford one.
What sucks is knowing that no matter what you do, the end result will still be coming. Oh you might put if off, delay it, but let’s be honest, death is going to come. I am not looking forward to that, even though in a sort of dispassionate part of my mind, it says it is inevitable, and perhaps would be best. I don’t know, as I do believe in God and in Heaven, but still, maybe it is just that I am selfish, and don’t want to see her go. Maybe it is being naive, but when she has trouble getting up off the couch, to go to the bathroom, it is like you get a feeling of anger, wanting her to fight more, to fight harder, when really, you know she is, but her body is failing.
Ninety one years old, the body isn’t what it used to be, still we expect it to be. I know I do, and maybe that anger is really just fear showing. I don’t like to think about death, about not having her around, because we are close, we do love each other. It isn’t words, but you feel it. I know when I see her take nearly a half hour to walk from the couch to her bedroom, it hurts inside, it brings tears to the eyes, because it really isn’t that far. Yet you can see her fighting, for each step, refusing to give in, yet her body resists. I don’t know, not even sure why I am writing this, but I wonder what it is like, to die?
What is it like to be her age, knowing you may not have many more left, or even wondering if there is a heaven, or thinking about what is left to do? So many questions, and so little time, you wonder what goes through the mind, at that age? Then too I wonder, is she okay, does she feel I have done enough, not enough? I wonder if there is something else I should be doing, for her, or not? Am I making her last moments pleasent, or am I making them more painful? What else can be done, if anything?
This is a daily if not hourly, though process, that makes me wonder how can I get up in the morning, or how can I go to sleep tonight. What will tomorrow bring, what crisis will happen? Who is there to discuss it with, or talk it over with? Can one even begin to fathom the emotional upheaval that is going on 24 hours a day, or is it really ordinary? Am I maybe thinking too much, not enough?
This is what a care giver thinks, what I go through every day, and still the stories I write get written, even if it takes me longer. This is the stress that lurks, constantly a companion, until who knows when, and yet if I had my choice, if it was up to me, I’d want this to go on for eternity. I don’t want to lose mom, not now, not tomorrow, not next month, next year, or hell, next decade even. Naive, wishful thinking, but it is the truth. As hard as this is, and believe me it is, I know I don’t want it to end, to change. I know too, it won’t get easier, it will only increase, and you know, I don’t care. So what if I have to get up at 8am and stay upstairs, work on my laptop instead of desktop, so what if it means I have to be inconveniened?
After all, she is my mother. Surely that alone makes it worth it. Does for me.
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