Hey. . .
For you out there who do this sort of thing, please say some prayers for my mother. Her cancer has apparently now metastasized to her brain. She is so ill and so pitiful. I am glad she is able to be at her home with Hospice care--amazing wonderful Hospice care--and her round-the-clock caregivers (who really do make me believe in saints). . .but she is losing more and more of herself, and on most days now she goes in and out of knowing what's going on. She sleeps most of the time, and we can talk to her a little, but . . .it is getting so she is less and less aware of reality and she just talks about whatever is in her mixed-up head.
She has bouts of anger and crying, some of it related to reality, some of it a product of the disease.
She is 78 (parents were older when they had me).
This is no way to love and I don't understand why she just can't go...can't find peace.
Some of you know that my mother and I have not had a good relationship since I was about 15. She has been an angry person, most likely bi-polar and just plain ol' nasty. SHe has caused me a great amount of emotional pain and problems, whcih I think I have pretty much overcome at this point.
Yet, I have always hoped that at some point, some day--somehow--she would see that I am not the evil, mean, pointless human she thinks I am. I mean, she thinks that I lied about being molested "just to hurt her"???WTF? They gut was fucking thrown OFF the ranch were he ran his training business because it was also a girl's school--and obviously he had done bad things (the school never prosecuted, but later on some individual girls did).
Well, according to her either I lied, or I CHOSE to let it happen (after the first time), because I wanted to ride horses more than I wanted to be good. I was nine. I didn't tell because it was awful enough to go through it, let alone have to then go tell about it and listen to my parents freak out. I think even then I know that thought they would have stopped it, my mother would have worn it as HER injury "how could this have happened to MY baby........." and she would have blamed my father (for getting me into horses in the first place).
As a kid I think telling seemed like the more frightening alternative.
Anyway....God, this is the horrible circle I go in everyday: I am sad, I am scared, I am so angry; I am guilty for being angry at a dying woman; I am in tears. . .and in the end I push all aside and try to do what I can for her. Bring her home-cooked meals and flowers, which she loves, and little things that make her feel like a woman still (perfumed massage lotions, tiny bracelets and earrings that I make for her - stuff she can wear in bed).... and I sit with her and talk when she can, listen - or just sit there, so that she knows I am there.
And it is heartbreaking, no matter the anger, to watch what feels like the disintegration of a human being--my mother. Despite all the crap and the anger, she is still my mother. My mother.
My mother.
And I just don't know where to go from here. . .
So yes, please say prayers or blessings or thoughts or positive energies her way. Please just hope that she can be at peace, whatever that finally means.
And please try to excuse me for whining my way through this.
It is the only truly revealing blog I've ever written here (other than, of course, the bunny stuff - which is very much me).
For you out there who do this sort of thing, please say some prayers for my mother. Her cancer has apparently now metastasized to her brain. She is so ill and so pitiful. I am glad she is able to be at her home with Hospice care--amazing wonderful Hospice care--and her round-the-clock caregivers (who really do make me believe in saints). . .but she is losing more and more of herself, and on most days now she goes in and out of knowing what's going on. She sleeps most of the time, and we can talk to her a little, but . . .it is getting so she is less and less aware of reality and she just talks about whatever is in her mixed-up head.
She has bouts of anger and crying, some of it related to reality, some of it a product of the disease.
She is 78 (parents were older when they had me).
This is no way to love and I don't understand why she just can't go...can't find peace.
Some of you know that my mother and I have not had a good relationship since I was about 15. She has been an angry person, most likely bi-polar and just plain ol' nasty. SHe has caused me a great amount of emotional pain and problems, whcih I think I have pretty much overcome at this point.
Yet, I have always hoped that at some point, some day--somehow--she would see that I am not the evil, mean, pointless human she thinks I am. I mean, she thinks that I lied about being molested "just to hurt her"???WTF? They gut was fucking thrown OFF the ranch were he ran his training business because it was also a girl's school--and obviously he had done bad things (the school never prosecuted, but later on some individual girls did).
Well, according to her either I lied, or I CHOSE to let it happen (after the first time), because I wanted to ride horses more than I wanted to be good. I was nine. I didn't tell because it was awful enough to go through it, let alone have to then go tell about it and listen to my parents freak out. I think even then I know that thought they would have stopped it, my mother would have worn it as HER injury "how could this have happened to MY baby........." and she would have blamed my father (for getting me into horses in the first place).
As a kid I think telling seemed like the more frightening alternative.
Anyway....God, this is the horrible circle I go in everyday: I am sad, I am scared, I am so angry; I am guilty for being angry at a dying woman; I am in tears. . .and in the end I push all aside and try to do what I can for her. Bring her home-cooked meals and flowers, which she loves, and little things that make her feel like a woman still (perfumed massage lotions, tiny bracelets and earrings that I make for her - stuff she can wear in bed).... and I sit with her and talk when she can, listen - or just sit there, so that she knows I am there.
And it is heartbreaking, no matter the anger, to watch what feels like the disintegration of a human being--my mother. Despite all the crap and the anger, she is still my mother. My mother.
My mother.
And I just don't know where to go from here. . .
So yes, please say prayers or blessings or thoughts or positive energies her way. Please just hope that she can be at peace, whatever that finally means.
And please try to excuse me for whining my way through this.
It is the only truly revealing blog I've ever written here (other than, of course, the bunny stuff - which is very much me).
I am so, so sorry. I know it's a very difficult thing. I wish there were some words I could offer you that would smooth the agony.
Hang in there. It sounds like you are doing everything in your power. You have a lot of friends pulling for you.