Hospice begins for my Mom, tomorrow.

[Scruffy Rumbler]

I am having trouble seeing this as the tears flood done my face. My sister and I have been her guardians and caregivers since July of 2010. Horrible actions taken by family members led us to secure court guardianship that year and my partner and I moved from the west coast back to the east coast, bought a two family home for the four of us.

Mom has senile dementia: possible Alzheimer's. She was diagnosed years ago. When we moved back, she still knew I was her son , after telling her my name.

For years she passed off having forgotten names as bad eye sight...she does have macular degeneration. When we moved back, she had loss the sight in her rt eye due to carelessness on the part her former caregiver.... her own daughter. Our big fear was she would go completely blind before she dies. That was a question she asked me on the way to her eye doctors, "What if I go blind before?" She never said before what. It was one of those moments in the life of dementia when a glimpse of her old self came out. And she sounded scared....like a kid. All I could do was hold her hand, assure her that THAT was not going to happen, and if it did we would be there. That was last summer. She still has peripheral vision in the left eye. She makes jokes about it and squints, making funny faces. Today she can barely open them, and when she does, she can still see.

For a year or so, when I would drop in, The conversation went like this...
ME: "Hi, Mom! It's me, *****."
Mom: "Oh!, Hi *****. You're my son, *****? Right?"
ME: "Yup, That's me!"
Mom: eyeing my 6' , 250lb body "I gave birth to you?!? Ow ow ouch!"

Then there are the hugs. I am tall, she no longer is. I stand straight, she is almost bent double. Most people, she ends up hugging their hips. Her and me... we got it down. or rather up...When she says yes to a hug, she stands, I kneel in front of her with my arms out, I prompt her to put her arms on my shoulders. My head lays at her breast, her head rests on mine, her hand caresses my hair. With my arms gently supporting her, she can settle into a position supported on my shoulders and we time travel, I am 5 and she is 35, I am two and she is 32, I am 50 and she is 80. I let her be the first to pull back. Some times she is done quickly. A little slap on the shoulder... "you can go home now!" Sometime she lingers...humming in my ear. I pretend to fall asleep and snore. I can hear her laughter through her chest, deep and motherly. "Oh poor baby, we need to get you a bed!" other times" That's right.... you just sleep right there."


Last week after visiting, I was tending the flower pots on her front porch when she asked my sister who that nice fellow was. My sister called me by her son's name... the look on her face when said "I think my name is*****".

This week she is having bouts of DEEP sleep, the kind you cannot rouse her from. She wakes up with a start, eyes pop open, try to focus on who is in the room...goes back to sleep. I want to tell her she can go.... but I can't. My brother evicted her 4 years ago. He doesn't think she was aware at the time. Last month as she was leaving the hospital after a brief stay, she asked my sister if they were being kicked out of her home again. I cried again and privately raged again at what he did to her, my sisters and myself. And now, I want to tell my mommy she can go and we will be ok...but I can't...not yet not in such straight forward words as that. The way will come.

So tonight I wait.... hoping I'll sleep better tonight. Tomorrow's list, contact our funeral home and let him know (and seriously check to make sure he is still alive. He is older than my mom), shop for a headstone, contact her burial trust for info. oh and be back by one for hospice.

Hospice begins for my Mom, tomorrow. I am sad.