Mother’s Day is almost here. How did this happen? I mean, I can’t believe it’s May already. I live in a sort of bubble. Sorta a place they send discounted items trying to figure out what to do with them – that’s what it feels like anyway.
Plus, if you’ve spent time in hospitals or nursing homes time becomes meaningless as disease, sickness, and pain keep no schedule. Soon you become consumed with feeding the meter of health trying to fill it up whole again.
When I placed my mother in a skilled nursing facility I had already spent months disconnecting the force of will I used to keep myself going for her care, as well as, allowing her mortality instead of her recovery become reality for me.
Her birthday was a few days after we sent her to live in a nursing home. Some shitty daughter I am, right?! Then, Mother’s Day shortly after, and I waited to visit until both days had passed. I found her in a wheelchair wandering the hallways. Pulling herself along the handrails of the walls – out of her mind.
She looked up at me as a stranger, her eyes were filled with enraged anger. I almost didn’t recognize her. She was no longer herself. She was a million miles away. Locked inside her stroke-ridden mind. As angry as she was , I could see she was also fighting. The anger was a fight in her mind, her stroke, and with the staff.
I could see in her what spoke of: How can you do this to me? Don’t you know I am still here? Can’t you see I am still a person? If you would just talk to me you would know my mind is still here.
Once she recognized me – she returned.
It was hard for me to leave the nursing home that day. How responsible I felt. How guilty I felt.
How responsible I still feel. How guilty I still feel.
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 