Monday, April 10, 2006

Comfortably Numb

It's not really peace, ya know. It's avoidance.

It's keeping things bottled inside, only letting small bits seep out and dealing with each bit as it comes.

I suppose it explains the fitful sleep patterns, the inability to focus, the need for mindless repetitive tasks - the bizarre dreams.

Sure, I cried like a baby before I went to Florida. I sucked it up and tried NOT to cry while there, but several times I broke down and just quietly sobbed. There's this huge hole inside that is where my emotions were - and a rock that surrounds them now.

Slowly, a small bit at a time, I poke at the rock... chipping a little more of the covering away - but it usually only gives way at night.

Woke up the other night unable to know where I was - thinking I was in Florida, looking for Mom.

My mind plays "what if"... What if I hadn't insisted that Dad get her x-rayed for that hip pain? She wouldn't have gone to the secure home. Maybe she wouldn't have caught the flu...

What if..... What if this wasn't Alzheimers? Dad didn't have her autopsied, and that is the only sure way to tell if it IS Alzheimers, and not some other dementia. What if it was instead something related to hormone imbalance or other causes? What if some OTHER doctor might have been more effective?

What if I had realized THEN, instead of now... that she was so very thirsty?

What if.....

I know it's a stupid mind-game to play. I know it won't help. But the emotions steer me that direction for this time. Perhaps later I can reconcile this all. I don't know. I need to have lunch with Grandma, but I can't afford more eat-out this week.

I also know that if I have lunch with Grandma, I will end up crying a lot. I don't know if I'm ready for that.

They're going to inter Mom's ashes at the church on Sunday after services. I wish I could be there for Dad. It will be hard for him.



Amanda said...

I suppose the best thing to do in this situation is to appologise for my harsh comments to you during a hard time for all of us. As two different people we handle our grief in two very different ways. I know you wanted the old gramma back, and I just wanted her to find peace. I want you to know that aside from all the problems you and I have had, BETWEEN YOU AND ME (not you me and all these other people who apparently know me so well as to judge me and my feelings......) i love you very much. I don't think i will ever be able to have any real sort of relationship with you in the way you want me to, but i don't want to cut you off completely. You are my mom and the daughter of grandma who is a worrier, and you do it well too. :-) I made a blog on this site just for you so that you can read how i'm doing, and know that i'm ok. i know it's small potatoes in the grand sceme of things, but it's all i can offer you right now. Again, I want you to know that I love you and am sorry if I have said anything to hurt your feeling at a time where we are both so vulnerable.

ZW said...

Very impressive Amanda. To be able to offer a heart felt apology is a sure sign of maturity.

I'll shut up now and leave you with one last "old folks" piece of wisdom:

In the long run, words are meaningless. Deeds and Actions are what proves what you are made of.

Leandra said...

Congratulations. That had to be really tough to say.

Many years ago my sister and I were in the position you find yourself with your mother. It took our father's death to bring us back together. We still don't see eye to eye on a lot of stuff, but she's still my sister, I love her, and we know out boundaries now.

I don't know you, but I'm proud of you. It took an enormous amount of guts for you to say what you just did.

Sewmouse said...

Thank you, Amanda. I know it took courage and a lot of "balls" to apologize. I love you too.

I also apologize for harsh words spoken in anger.

I'll check out your blog.