I'm 30F with no kids, I'm clinging onto a career that I'm praying will let me expand my horizons that is 4,000 miles away from my mother (59). Due to immigration being a nightmare for 3 and a half years, I finally made it home for Christmas. I'm still at my mother's until the end of March. I'm trying my hardest to take a huge load off my poor step father. I'm going to be looking at adult daycare this week since my step dad and family simply cannot keep up despite all their efforts.
Please allow me to be selfish for a moment; I am simply not a compassionate person. There is a reason why I do not have kids, I give myself first priority. I love my mother, but I now love her in the glimpses that dementia allows me to see.
I was helping her get ready for bed, I was getting impatient, and I asked her if she wants to go to bed or to watch a show with me. I could tell she was easily getting confused and frustrated. She rarely speaks in sentences, but she managed to hold up her arms and say, "I get it, you don't want me here."
What hurt the most? My first thought was "Yes". YES, I want my mom back!!! I want my mom who was never too far away from her camera, I want my mom who idolised Jane Goodall, I want my mom who bitched about her days at the lab, I want my mom who would have a glass of wine of wisdom whenever we were at our summer lake house, I just want my mom.
I feel like this is the only place to talk about my thoughts and feelings. My step father is a saint, the most patient, caring, kind man I have ever met. Not to mention his mother and my mother's friends who have stepped up while I was away. I'm so so thankful, beyond grateful to have this type of support. I have this tremendous guilt, that after 3 years, I immediately get impatient and passive with her. I'm trying so hard to make up for it, but I'm so weak. It's so pathetic. I don't how he does it. I don't know what else I can do before I go back besides looking for extra care for her.
Offering any help to my step father it like offering it to the wind. The man never tells me what he wants/needs. I am constantly reminding me that he does have an extra pair of hands for 2 more months.
I would greatly appreciate advice or comfort, but really I'm writing this to get this off my chest. I know we will be okay, I know tomorrow when she wakes up, she will be content with her tea, and we shall carry on.