The truth of life is that everyone will die. That’s the one thing we have that we can be sure of. Yet – when it looks like it will happen soon – the pain and sadness is so great and it comes as a shock even though all the signs are there.
My Dad is growing weaker. But he has accepted this. His wish is to leave this world peacefully – so we are doing all we can to make that happen. That’s all that we can do.
My mum had a stroke in November 2017. It left her with no use of her left side. But she has fought! She is determined not to let it beat her. In August 2018 she had a fall – broke her hip. Did she let it stop her? Did she let it all beat her? No – not at all. She carried on fighting.
My Dad – her husband of 52 years was at her side. He was her carer – no one else was good enough. She needs 24 hour care – and he gave it to her. He encouraged her and looked after her. He grew more and more tired – he wasn’t well himself but kept going.
My mum and dad have a relationship that I can only dream of. They love and cherish each other still after all of these years.
Now Dad is in hospital seriously ill. And he is still fighting. Still worried about mum above himself. My mum has lost her carer so has to go into a home. They have lived in their home for 51 years. And still they love each other and support each other. They seem to draw strength from each other. Neither has given up.
Such sad days. But such inspirational days.
I haven’t always understood the life my parents have lived. They don’t understand mine. We argue. We are such different people. But I must admit I am slightly jealous of their relationship. In each other they found the one. Their relationship withstands obstacles and the passage of time. Last night my mum said how lucky she is to have had my dad and to still have him. No more needs to be said.
I have gone for walks and have been me … First day in ages that I have met my step goal
Well it’s been a week… a week that I guess I knew would happen at some time but still managed to be a shock. A week in which my Dad has ended up seriously ill in hospital… a week in which I have had to find my mum a place in a care home. A week in which I sat in the sister’s office listening to news that I didn’t want to hear and then having to come home and tell my mum. I don’t know what will happen next … it’s all still very much a waiting game.
I’m not ready to start analysing my feelings. I have had to shut them away to some extent so that I can concentrate on helping my mum with her care and with the decisions that need to be made. I will have to save feeling for later.
There have been a few things which have struck me this week… the first is friendship. My parents have such caring and good friends who have been ringing and offering help all week. Some of them they have known for years. My parents are well loved. And my friends – one looking after Pretzel and my cats – oh and the hamster. Others texting sending their love. And one disappointing me I guess – but I have learnt not to push; not to take what isn’t freely given. And others I haven’t told because I don’t want to keep saying the words.
The staff on the ward have been wonderful. The NHS is much blamed and maligned but the nurses are amazingly caring people. And the consultant is doing the very best he can to give my dad the best hope possible. I also appreciate his honesty.
I have always been awe struck by how my dad has cared for my mum – putting her first and doing everything for her. This week as my brother and I have shared the caring doing it together and individually I have learnt just how tiring it can be. And my Dad must have felt unwell for a while but carried on regardless…
I have been surprised by how much I miss my home – my life. I miss my girls, my animals. I miss my cats curling up on my lap and my early morning Pretzel walks. I miss chatting with my girls. I missed going to the Buddhist meeting last night. I feel a strong sense of disconnection and a longing to be at home if only for a day or two. I guess I just want some “normal”. Some time where I’m not having to deal with wheelchairs and personal care; some time when I’m not having to help my mum make big decisions. Some time when I can start to process everything.
So this week has been about suffering. About the probable ending of a life my mum and dad had together. Impermanence. Sadness.
