My heart is pained today. I know this feeling. The first time I experienced it was back in April of 2007 when my dear brother Tony told me he had a
few months to live. The shock and the agony of his words took my breath away and left my heart marred and aching. It is an ache unlike any other- it’s not a broken heart from a love
affair that ends, it’s not a crushing blow from cruel words- it’s the heaviness, the swift kick to your gut that comes with knowing someone you love is dying. There is nothing else like
it. It makes your soul weep for their pain and your own that will come, it
causes tears to run down your face uncontrollably and it ties your stomach in
knots. It is an ache I knew would eventually come again. I just had prayed and
hoped it would be a sudden loss, not the one I fear is coming- a long walk for
her to the light and a long sobering journey to acceptance for me.
Yesterday I took mom and dad to see a new doctor- one that
specializes in geriatric care. Mom was nervous, fearful and on edge. But this
new doctor meshed well with her. He is gentle and kind and spoke to her and to me
and dad and he listened. He saw things I didn’t have to explain- he knew the
signs of dementia and didn’t use that word. He said “I see you have some memory
issues.” He held her hand and called her sweetheart when she got anxious and
the tears were falling. He calmed her and in turn I felt some relief. This doctor
is going to be a good fit for my parents.
Mom did not do well on her memory test. I knew there were
marked differences in the last year, but to see and hear her fail at things she
used to be good at…. It was an eye opener for me. She can still spell but can't
write very well anymore. She can't follow directions unless they are given one
at a time. She turned to me and dad for help with answers and I read the pain
and confusion in her eyes when I wouldn't help her. Her walk is more of a
shuffle and she’s lost over 20 pounds in the last 3 months. Her appetite is
non-existent. The doctor is confident that this is due to the dementia but is
running tests to make sure. When he looked at me and said “this is severe memory loss”
it took all I could to nod and not run out of the room in tears.
I signed up to be mom’s caregiver knowing we’d get to this
point. I have seen what dementia and Alzheimer’s did to my grandmothers, an
aunt and others. I knew this day would come for mom. What I didn’t think about
was how terrified she would be. This morning I spent an hour with her consoling
her and reassuring her that I am here for the long haul. She has asked me to
just “let her go”, to “let Tony come for me”, and to “take her life”. It’s the
last that one that has me most upset. I told her that I can’t do that and I
know she knows I wouldn’t. But to be asked to, that’s a blow unlike any other.
Tony never asked that of me. I can only assume she’s said these same things to
my dad last night and this morning. I can only imagine Dad felt the punch in the gut like I did, but 100 x's worse since their love is over 46 years old.
My mom is terrified, her words. How do I tell her not to be?
She’s watched her own mother succumb to Alzheimer’s- she was her caregiver- she knows what’s coming. But to see that panic in her eyes, that’s something I wasn’t prepared for. I held her hand, crawled in to bed with her and finally got her to
laugh. I made silly jokes and songs when in reality all I want to do is curl up
with the woobie she made me and bawl till the ache is gone. I sit here typing
with tears flowing uncontrollably and my stomach wanting to stage a full on
revolt. I hear the black hole calling me, begging me to go to it for comfort
and solace. And if it wasn’t for the two amazing men in my life, I’d give in. I’d
willingly bury my head in the pillows and not come up for air or light for
weeks…. months… whatever it took to numb the ache and not face this reality. But I won’t. I can’t. I am
strong and capable of handling this ache. I will not let the hole seduce me
ever again. I'll turn to my dad and my other half, W (more on him later),
when I can’t hold the tears back and when I feel the pull of the hole. I will
grasp tightly to the love these two men have for me and I will survive this
journey no matter how long it is. I will hug my dad tight every day and tell
him with actions and words that I am here for him and mom. And when my tears
fall I will hide them from mom, but let W wipe them away. I know he will hold
me and let me cry or scream or simply go numb- and he will not let me retreat
into the hole. I embrace this journey and learn from the pain, and I'll have cherished memories of my mom when the end does come. Never will I regret my choice to be here for her and dad.
Momma, this I promise you:
You are my mom, you are the woman who brought me into this
world (and often threatened to take me out if I didn’t fly straight J ), you are the reason
I can nag so well. I promise to hold your hand and listen to your fears, to wipe away your tears and remind you how loved you are. I will help you find a
reason to smile and laugh every day- multiple times. I will stick my tongue out
at you when you're being sassy; laugh with you when you give me the
Polish finger. I will help you remember the words you can’t find anymore. I
will play “Austin” by Blake and every Garth song there is so you can sing along
even if you lose your voice. I will make up silly songs and watch you cringe at
my awful voice just as long as you smile for me. I will make sure you are not
in pain. I'll be strong for Dad and help him the best I can now and forever. I will honor
your wishes and do all I can to make this last part of the journey as easy as
possible. You don’t have an expiration date on your foot, or ass for that
matter, but no matter how long you’re here on this earth, I will take care of
you. And when Tony comes for you, I will smile through the tears and be glad to
know you’re with him again. I will always love you Momma.
Your Dirty Gertie forever and ever….
