Back in January the Doctor estimated my mother had about six months left on her earthly journey. We’re halfway through the sixth month. After she had the stroke late last summer her brain function has ever so slowly drifted off into bouts of delusions and disconnects. We put her on hospice care at that point.
In 2017 mom lost her eyesight and most of her hearing. The woman who loved music, reading and knitting was left with just sitting or laying in bed. Day in and day out my mother is now just an empty shell of a human body. Her greatest joy is to go outside in a wheelchair and feel the sun on her face. As luck would have it, we here in western NY have had a very chilly and rainy Spring. So the outside trips have been limited. Sometimes we take her downstairs to the cafe for hot coco and a slice of lemon cake. Just to get her out of her room. A change of pace and relief from the boredom.
There is no quality of life for my mother. She prays to God that he take her, she tells me she’s ready to go. I used to get upset when she’d say that but now I just tell her that when the time comes she can go. We will be okay, we’ll miss her but we will be fine.
I went to see her two days ago (work and distance keeps me from going more often). She had miraculously eaten most all of her lunch! The staff doesn’t feed her and if she has to struggle to get food in her mouth she won’t eat. That days lunch was quiche, perfect for her to handle and she likes quiche. Win win. Anyway she was telling me about some awful argument she had with a woman that morning. She said she had asked the woman about “Mr yellow and Mr purple” something about which was double and which was single. Mom said the woman was yelling at her to stand up and when mom refused they got into it. Now mind you, this is the delusion factor and not reality. She also told me that when she came down the stairs in the morning something of hers was missing. My mother can’t walk, say nothing about using stairs. My assumption is that this was all a dream but to her it was very real. Just like when she said that she had filed reports to the FBI that “they” weren’t given food and if they did get fed it was food taken from the trash bins.
My mother is not living any resemblance of a quality of life. I don’t know how the staff does it because I can barely make it through an hour with her. My mother was always kind and polite. The brain damage has changed her so drastically. It’s excruciating to watch her slowly slip away into a place that is so very dark. A place filled with arguments and evil. I wished out loud that she would dream of being out in the pastures or gardens tending cows or picking berries, happier delusions that might calm her soul.
I know her journey is almost over. I know she is leaving soon. What I don’t know is how her body continues to function. I believe God is still preparing a place for her but but waiting and watching from here is painful.