Reeling, feeling, dealing, and hopefully someday even keeling.

My Mother passed away a week ago. Her last two days were quiet ones and she wasn't in that  state of  mental torment anymore. She hung on as long as she could. She is, was a tough old bird. But it was time and she had fought long enough. My brother and I spent most of her last week with her, talking, laughing, me singing songs I knew she loved and a few I knew she didn't just to see if there was any Shirley left in her. Thursday we thought we'd said our goodbyes but Shirley wasn't ready. Friday we cried with the weekday staff because we knew she'd be gone by the time they got back from the weekend. Saturday we were at peace with it and we told her we loved her and told her it was okay to let go, that her
mom and our Dad were waiting. At 10:30 pm on May 17th my Mother let go. It was her time, her turmoil was over. I froze when my phone rang at 10:55 pm that night, I knew who it was. I said "oh shit no" and answered it. It was her time, she was gone. I'm reeling still, a little lost. A little confused by the love I developed for her these past three years. I'm feeling it still, sadness, confusion, loss. I'm dealing with paperwork, cremation, phone calls, memorial plans, burial. And someday I will be back on my even keel. I hope. My Mother really wasn't much of a Mother to me but she was my Mom and recognizing who she was and what made her how she was gave me insight into myself and I love her. My Mom is dead now, I will miss her.

I am going to continue this blog. I will talk of my childhood, my life with and without Mom, and I will hopefully come to grips with this loss I feel right now. Shirley was a strong woman, a brave woman, a wounded woman, and a woman I am lucky to have loved.

last steps

My Mom is on hospice now. My brother and I made the decision last Friday. It is time. She has no real life quality left and she is in deep mental pain.  We've begun to just treat pain. It's difficult to watch and difficult to live. I will post more in a day or two. My mind is hurting right now.

let sleeping Shirleys lie

Growing up I always knew our home was different than the other homes in our average middle-class neighborhood. Sure, our lawn was trimmed and well maintained. Sure, we played the games all neighborhood children played, hot box, monkey in the middle, freeze tag and other fun games. We rode bikes, played t-ball, joined Boy and Girl scouts. We were clean, WelL dressed and from the outside all was well. But our house held secrets one of which was our mother's mental illness. Everyone in our neighborhood knew, they just never said anything out loud to us. When mom would have her bi-yearly breakdown they would look out for my brother and me, feed us, watch us, treat us just a little bit kinder. I think they figured we needed it but to us crazy was normal.
In the 80s mom got better. She really wasn't cured, it was medication related. I was a mom then and so busy that an almost normal mom was okay by me. And life marched on with mom having an occasional downward spiral. She'd go back in for treatment and we'd get her back, a little paler, a little calmer, a little more normal.
But now normal is a ghost, we think we see it and then it's gone leaving us to wonder if we just imagined it. Dementia + loopy = Shirley. She screams for Ray, there is no Ray. She talks to the corner of her room. She cries for her mother. She curses like a biker. She accuses me of stealing her pants, of killing the cat, of hiding her shoes. She thinks my brother is my dad, she says he took her food and won't let her eat. She tells random staff and visitors to shut the hell up. It hurts to see but a ranting and raving Shirley is better than a sleeping and out of it Shirley. Sounds good doesn't it? Truth is, a sleeping Shirley is a better Shirley.
Yesterday she looked up at me and said "I am dying. I am going to die." And then we both cried. Her because crying is her go to emotional outlet, me because I cry for who she was, the mother I had, and the mother I wish I'd had.