Final thoughts on being an adult caretaker

So my mom has now moved back into her home with her husband (my stepfather) with 24 hour paid care. I have met 3 of the 4 caretakers. I actually really like the daytime caregiver. She takes them places and my stepfather is clean, dressed well and looks 100 times better than he did the last time I saw him. I have no doubt that she will take great care of my mom as well.

This leads me to a new anxiety. Letting go and letting someone else take over the care for my mother. Don't get me wrong - caring for my mother was one of the most difficult and life changing things I have ever done. I was tired 99% of the time and in the final weeks, I just wanted an end to it all. I've missed out on so much with my kids and basically was stuck in my house for 3 months Tuesdays through Fridays.

Despite all that, I took my role as an adult caregiver very seriously. I tried very hard to treat my mother the way that I would want to be treated if I were in her position. I didn't make her wear Depends even though it probably wasn't a bad idea. I did end up having her wear them to bed the last couple of weeks because she would forget where the bathroom was and how to go by herself. I only put clothes on her that I know she liked (my brother dressed her in a pair of jeans he bought her often...she HATES jeans and always has). I never brushed the curls out of her perm, but instead found an old large tooth comb that I had had for my spiral perms long ago. I made sure her hair was curly...and just the way she always has worn it. By the end of our time together, she claimed it as her own, so I wrote her name on it in Sharpie and put it in her bag. On St. Patty's day I loaned her a green sweater and when she declared that she loved it and thought it was such a pretty color, I told her it looked much better on her and that she could have it (it really did look better on her!) By writing all this, I am not trying to pat myself on the back. Believe me, I lost my cool and bit my tongue more than once. When she would tell my kids to "shut up", I would hold back my anger and chalk it up to an elderly person not being used to the way kids behave. My kids are loud...as is (or was) my mother...dinner time is never boring. /grin/

I believe that I could have been a much better caregiver at times, but I also believe that her time here was good for her. I will even venture to say that she misses us too. When hubby and I went to see her last Sunday (and bring her her favorite carrot cake cupcakes w/maple cream cheese frosting), she had been sad. My stepfather said our visit made her happy again and that he wanted me to come all the time. (Believe me...that's a pretty big compliment.) She asked about "her kids" and told me again how number 6 got mad at her when she would get after her. I smiled as usual and told her that number 6 was the child that she had always wished on me. My mini me!

In the end, doing the right thing is not always the easiest, but I will NEVER be sorry for doing it. I will NEVER be sorry for taking my mother with all her flaws and having the roles reversed for awhile. I will NEVER be sorry for setting an example for my children on how we are supposed to treat our parents despite what kinds of old hurts haunt us from our past. I did the right thing and I'd like to think that I grew as a person along the way.

Nothing is more fabulous....

....than using your clothes line after a long, snowy winter!

The next two days are supposed to be sunny AND in the 60's. The snow has finally disappeared enough for me to get out of the cellar and to my clothes line. I AM SO STOKED!!!!! I have not hung anything outside since December. I have missed hanging especially my sheets and tablecloths.

Goodbye dryer and hanging laundry inside on the rolling wardrobe. You've served me well the last few months, but there is a new way to dry in town (finally). Thank you spring!

Walk a mile

I'm so irritated and frankly, hurt.

This journey I'm on right now is all consuming. You all know that because it seems to be the only thing I can write about these days. I have baggage that weighs it down even more which I am trying to shuffle through...trying to heal, forgive - whatever needs to be done.

To be perfectly honest, I am resentful some days. I resent that I am shouldering something else in my already full up life, but what gets me the most is the fact that except for three family members (and one happens to be my brother who is also walking this walk with me), NO ONE really gives a shit. I have high school girl friends and internet friends who have taken the time to text me, call me, write to me - reminding me to keep my chin up - to keep on keeping on. WTF? Doesn't that seem a little backwards to you?

I had two nights in a row where I actually drank wine. TWO. And you would have thought the fucking earth stood still. I don't have a problem with alcohol, I promise. I am stressed beyond measure and yes, I am tense and prone to harsh words when this happens. Of course, you might know that if you actually gave a flying fuck and actually called/texted/checked in more than once.

I would like to just say this: Here are my shoes. Walk a mile in them and then get back to me. Until you become a caregiver for your adult parent who doesn't even know how to fucking wipe themselves anymore while trying to be a wife to a husband who has been strung out from snow storm after snow storm and a mother to 6 kids, don't judge. Don't even look at me funny because you know, I am apt to go off.

Taking care of me

I am feeling frustrated with myself. I allowed myself to do something that I shouldn't have. I went down a path that wasn't for my feet and now that I've backtracked, I am hurting. The funny thing is, I don't think I ever realized that I'd end up being hurt. I knew I could hurt others, but I never thought about myself. Funny.

I think this is a vicious cycle. Not worrying about yourself until danger or disaster strikes. I think it is a learned trait. After talking with my mom last night, the similarities are dizzying. I have many of the same qualities as she does in regards to living life. Perhaps I need to seriously rethink some and change how I look at the others. I'm not sure, but what an eye opener.

I guess this is where I get angry. Angry at myself for allowing someone who I thought was my friend to treat me in a way that a real friend wouldn't get treated. Friends watch out for each other and don't do things to hurt them or lead them down paths that are long and windy and lead to a blind cliff for the friend to fall off. And when a friend apologizes for bad behavior, you don't just give them the silent treatment. A response is just common courtesy in my book - which means you don't have to absolve anyone, but you just need to accept what's offered and move on.

Perhaps I need to share these feelings with the person...of course, maybe they just aren't worth it after all. /sigh/

To cry or to laugh.

I woke up crying this morning. I cried for much of the morning. Big heaving sobs. I know there is more behind the ones that have already come. I know I just need to cleanse and be done with it, but I also don't want to cry alone. I want so much for my hubby to be there to hold me and to just hug me until it's over. Now if I could only tell him that. If I could only open up and be vulnerable.

So I went on to FB and clicked on a link of Funny Autocorrect texts. I laughed so hard. I fought away the tears and laughed instead. It is true that there is a fine line between laughing and crying. I choose laughing today. I choose the "spit your coffee out while leftover snot blows out your nose" laughing. Laughing is way better than crying. Trust me.

Thursday morning

It's been a long week and it's not over. My mother came to me this week a day early and may leave a day late because of weather. Needless to say, I'm tired.

Sunday was a good day. Mom was at my brother's and I attended my wine club. 5-6 hours and 4-5 bottles of red wine later, hubby drove our sorry butts home. It felt good to connect with these women. They have been such a blessing in my life and have been some of my best cheerleaders the last couple of weeks. How thankful I am that they are in my life.

Monday was a weird day. No school because it was Martin Luther King, Jr. day and I was feeling a bit dizzy most of the day. Had some icy weather coming so my brother and I decided to do the exchange that day. I felt like I didn't have time to really prepare, but such is life.

For those who are wondering, the care for my mom is constant. I help with toileting (and toileting fails), showering, dressing, med dispersion. Last night I had a crash course in trimming toenails that are thick and yellow with age and haven't been cared for in I don't know how long. They looked terribly painful, but with a pan of warm, soapy water and some clippers and a pumice we got through it ok. My mother is also an emotionally needy person. She needs hugs & reassurances all the time. While I am very affectionate with my own children and husband, I do not feel particularly affectionate towards my mom most of the time. That is not to say that I am mean, but I probably seem distant to her. I keep busy with my daily chores of laundry, housekeeping and cooking - all the while mourning my temporary loss of freedom and ability to volunteer at school, shop alone, etc. I fall into bed each evening and pretty much pass out from exhaustion and maybe even a bit of depression.

Emotionally, physically, spiritually - this has been a drain. I couldn't imagine doing it without my children. They have ALL been wonderful. The other night I was just in a sour mood and needed some alone time. The eldest and his girl took care of Mom while I decompressed. And when I say decompress, I mean I sat and literally vegged in front of computer card game for like an hour. The little ones play with her and engage her in conversation. Number 4 even adds her into his rounds of jokes by calling her by her first name (I know - it sounds very disrespectful, but it really isn't - it makes her laugh). I have to say even number 3 who has been in trouble so much lately for not being responsible has stepped up to the plate getting himself up in the mornings, behaving really wonderfully. I'm so impressed with ALL of them. Although, I wonder sometimes if it is the emotional baggage I have that makes it so much harder for me? Something to ponder when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep.

I also experienced anxiety attacks for the first time this weekend and my lovely mouth broke out in another round of cold sores. I guess caring for my mother along with the other daily stresses that I experience has sent me over the edge. I'm still debating whether to seek medical advice. I don't think at this point that I would be able to take any meds. I also don't want to even KNOW what my blood pressure is hovering at. I haven't exercised since before Christmas except for shoveling (which is just an excuse to get my sorry ass out of the house and doing something - thank you very much).

I don't want to sound like I am whining. I probably do and for that I apologize. I have no one to really vent to except my sister and brother and really? My sister took care of my father (he had dementia too) and my brother takes my mother on the weekends. They both know the stresses and didn't/don't complain - at least to me. I just miss my few hours of quiet when number 6 is at school with the rest of them and my ability to come and go as I please. I miss going into school once a week to volunteer in a preschool or first grade classroom. I miss feeling like a wife, because trust me, there isn't any part of me who feels sexy or even remotely attractive these days.

Thankfully, I still get to go to church each week without worry. I still make the snack each week for Thursday's Bible based clubs for the youth at church. I still am able to talk to my bestie and text with whomever is around. I still cook, do laundry (and yes, still one of my quiet places...probably why I have not been behind since Mom moved in) and bake breads, cookies, cakes, etc. I guess what I am saying that I've given up a lot, but I am thankful for the things I still am able to do.

I don't think caring for my mom will get any easier and I know when we square away the legal stuff it will be even harder to leave my mother in a place that isn't one of our homes. I will feel amazing guilt over it, but I will feel relief too, which will in turn make the guilt even heavier. I am hoping perhaps that the guilty feeling will be better than the feelings I am experiencing now.

Oh Shitty Day - please go far, far away.

Today started off pretty good. Enjoyed a hot cup of coffee in a quiet house. Tended the fire to get the house warm for my Mom. Then my sister called.

Today was the day that my sister planned on removing my mother's things from her house. The lawyer (all civilized forms of communications are done through these people, right?) sent word back that my brother would be allowed to pick up my mother's things, no one would be allowed in the house AND my sister was not allowed ON the property per "their lawyer".

Ok, so my sister stayed on the sidewalk while my brother in law (her husband), his Dad and my eldest son removed the things in boxes that my stepfather's family had packed. When asked if there was anything missing, my sister noticed my mother's tea cup holder was not accounted for. My brother in law went back in and they said, "sorry, J. (stepfather) said that is his." When I heard this, my day started on the downhill track.

Now I am so effing angry. I can't seem to shake it. The day progresses and the knot in my tummy grows larger and larger. My sister arrives with my mother's picture of her and her twin brother when they were babies (they won a baby contest with this photo). My mother breaks down and sobs when she sees this photo. It means the world to her as she is the only one left out of her family. Her parents & siblings are all gone. My sister and I hug and during the hug she whispers in my ear that they have stolen all my mother's jewelry. ALL of it. None of these things was worth much, but they were handed down from my great grandmother to my Nana to my mother. They stole them. They stole pictures out of my mother's picture book that my sister made for her. They are money grubbing piece of shits. I wish I could have punched them all in the face. Really.

The granddaughter FORGED checks to the tune of 6-9 thousand dollars (to which the bank is in the process of gathering evidence to go after her) and yet they felt the need to steal from my mother. WHY? She never once treated them badly. She always treated them as family. I find it quite ironic that her own children NEVER, NOT ONCE, asked her for anything, yet these people received money and food every time they couldn't pay a bill or feed their children. I waiver back and forth thinking that my stepfather is a loser of epic proportions and then feel badly that he is left with these people. My boy told me that he smells and my brother in law said that he was greasy and unwashed. No one cares for his needs and yet he clings to his "house" and his "things". As much as I want to feel that we have far more than they will ever know, I am angry. And hurt. And frustrated at my lack of ability to do anything about it. I pine for my own father because he always knew what to do. He always knew the right thing. I don't know anything and again I am reminded that I suck at being the safety net. I'm not ready for this roll yet I know I have no choice.

I keep praying for strength and trying to remember that my faith will see me through, but I've gotta admit. It's not so easy today.