Well, I've been on quite a ride this winter/spring, and I didn't have to wait in line. It's not one I recommend. I am really tired of rollercoasters, and this one had only downhill twists and turns with just a short flattening between. I've been alternatively nauseous, scared, and screaming.
My mom's health declined rapidly over the winter. She was quite short with me and my visits became less frequent and no longer than 20-30 minutes. The conflict and frustration we felt with each other over the autumn colored every interaction for me.
Flowers continued to be the means by which I expressed love and caring to her. I sent a beautiful arrangement mid February for Valentine's Day and what would've been her 65th anniversary with my dad. A few weeks later, I requested the florist create a beautiful composition of white roses, daisies, and mini-carnations with blue accent flowers throughout, her favorite. That delivery was the last.
At some point in February, she quit eating and they had a very time getting her to drink fluids. I'm sure she was just done. She faded until there was suddenly a sharp downturn and the hospice nurse said death was imminent. I sat with my mom as she lay dying. My oldest sister said mom sometimes her eyebrows would rise and fall in reaction to people talking, so she was definitely hearing the voices.
"I love you, mom. It's okay to go now. We're here with you." It felt hollow and inadequate to the moment. I went back out to the living room of mom's assisted living suite and cried, telling my sister I'd told her I love her but I wished she and I hadn't had the difficult last months we'd had. My sister encouraged me to go back in with mom and talk to her about it, so I did.
I apologized for my part in our conflict and forgave her for her part. I shared how much I love her and I know she loves me. Her eyebrows moved up and down. I shared how much my husband and sons love her and that they know she loves them. Her mouth opened, her tongue moved, her lower jaw went side to side. She stayed very animated as I retold one of her favorite stories of my boys. As I wrapped up, she became quiet again. I gave her a gentle kinda hug and told her again how much I love her. She passed at 4 am the next morning.
Later, at about 10 am that same day, my disability attorney called. He shared with me that I had, after four years, received a favorable decision from the latest hearing. My reaction was subdued, to say the least. He read the letter from the judge outlining the evidence and explaining her decision. That was very hard for me. The professionals agreed that my cognitive difficulties were too severe to allow my to work more than a simple, part-time job not involving the public and, based on the totality of my circumstances, the vocational expert said there were no jobs for me.
My. cognitive difficulties. are. my. disability.
I was, in no way, prepared for this. I do recognize my cognition has deteriorated. I hate it and have repeatedly said, in the past, "but I used to be smart." My profession was teaching and counseling. I taught adults courses in child development, discipline and stress management. I spoke to groups as big as 50-75. I loved it and it energized me. I learned a new profession at 40, becoming a medical transcriptionist so I could work from home. I coached and evaluated student teachers and led the women's ministry at our fairly large Presbyterian church. Now.....
And, so, the rollercoaster goes. My sisters and I had to deal with mom's death and estate. We held a memorial celebration in a private room at a restaurant in town. Mom paid.
My son had major surgery requiring three days in the hospital. It went well but there had been complications during surgery. A two-to-four hour operation took eight. He's doing well.
My mother-in-law, who lives in our basement, is pouting, telling my husband she feels like I don't like her and that I feel she is "lesser." She doesn't feel welcomed or respected by my husband and me (me, really). Give me a fucking break. She's living in my home and my husband totally redid her living area with new carpet/flooring and paint. We gave her half our home, practically. We have a split level with a daylight basement and she has the whole basement to herself. I won't go on about her - until after I give her a piece of my mind; then, I'll have a blog post to write.
I haven't written much over past months. Thoughts and words escape me, so I've had nothing I could express. Hopefully, I'm getting off the rollercoaster for a while. Maybe I'll catch my breath before the next one.
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