Wednesday, August 21, 2013


I'm failing.  Mom is too.  I feel like I am failing as her daughter.

To paraphrase from another...
The real question is: How can I help Mom have the highest quality of life possible in the time that remains?

She is so lost. She is so frustrated. She is so angry.

The wall that dementia has put between us; I can't reach her and she can't reach through it.  

For most of my visit yesterday, she was sitting in a chair zoning out. I knew she was awake. She would not open her eyes to interact with me.  She was closed in upon herself, in her zone, scratching at her eyebrows, her eyes, her chin, her hair. I'm surprised she hasn't torn the skin off her face. She is so intent at scratching.

When she finally opened her eyes and looked my way. The confusion and frustration was all over her face.  The words are jumbled and messy, but the anger comes through. She couldn't put her glasses on her face. She did not want them on... on and off, on and off. They weren't providing any clarity to what she was "seeing".  

I rubbed her shoulder and talked quietly cheek to cheek, she became alert and yelled "Stop it J__!"  Well, she recognized me enough to recall my Dad's name.

Then the mumbled anger gave way to huge Tarzan type yells.  Just yelling: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH opened mouth and loud.  Frustration and despair.

Oh Mom, I am so sorry.
I am so sorry.


Joy Walker said...

You are so not failing your mom! I imagine you are doing your very best and if she was aware and could see it, I bet your mother would agree. Take care of yourself!

Elizabeth Wilder said...

And I am so sorry too - weeping - so sorry.
And you my dear have not failed.