As you grow older and you are blessed to still have living parents, of course, they grow older too. This in itself can be a blessing or a curse or in some cases both. I have never had any qualms about expressing or sharing my feelings about the relationship I have with my mother. It is a “shit show” for lack of better terms. No matter how I try to sugar coat or mask it with scents of hopeful thoughts it is what it is and nothing more. Which is why it is so hard for me to deal with my own feelings about my mother’s health and what responsibilities it holds for me. As an only child, (fille unique) the burden of making her health care decisions is weighing heavy on me. I am angry, saddened, confused and frustrated. All of the emotional components of making irrational decisions; however, in situations like this, there is no way to discard those feelings so you try to work your way around them.
This morning as I engaged in a conversation with a social service worker that advised me that the most feasible option for my mother, at this point, would be admittance into a group home facility for the elderly. I tried to remove all of my internal emotions from the situation and assess it with an unbiased observation. If she were a stranger or simply an acquaintance I would, of course, make the same recommendation as it seems the most logical thing to do, but it’s my mother. I know the moment I commit to putting her in such a living arrangement it will be the last place she will ever be and that scares me. On the flip side of this, being alone in an apartment with minimal supervision and maximum health issues is a bad combination, so I know it is in her best interest. So why am I so bothered by presumably doing the right thing.
I am feeling like my need for guidance in this situation and enlisting that assistance of family members may have been more of a hindrance as they plant mental seeds of demise. Saying things like “when “so and so” was admitted into a facility they withered away and died. That’s like fucking saying if I put my mother in a home it will kill her faster than not. I just don’t see that as a rational. If I don’t put her in the facility she could kill herself.
This is the hardest decision I have ever had to make and NO ONE else can make this decision but me. No extended relative can intervene, no doctor, not even my mother has the mental capabilities of making this decision. I feel like the culmination of all that is happening is one tremendous burden. Then I get angry with myself because I use terms like “burden” when referring to the elderly care of my mother. I get angry with her because she made no preparations (as usual) for me (or anyone else for that matter) to care for her. I am saddened because she did not make preparations to care for herself. I am saddened because everything she has essentially worked for will be resolved into obscurity because there is no legacy in material possessions, they are simply objects.
There is so much more I want to express but even as a blogger it is exhausting reliving certain emotions and events.
I will, however, express my feelings about the urgency of maintaining good health and as we inevitably age, that we make preparation for the ones we love to make easy decisions. Sometimes life isn’t as simple as living and dying. For some, there is a transitional process that includes a decline in mental, spiritual and emotional health. No one should have to make the decisions about how you should spend your end of days but YOU.