The First of a Few Hard Weeks
I had learned over the weekend that something as simple as making a peanut butter sandwich was more than she could process. As I greeted her and told her I was there to make her lunch, she told me she was starving and hadn't eaten all day. I knew she had but must have forgotten, because I had fed her breakfast that morning. She wasn't happy when I told her I had to return to work after lunch, but she seemed to understand that I would back again to stay in just a few short hours.
The first few nights she slept peacefully in Lila's room while Lila slept in a sleeping bag in Paisley's room. Towards the end of the week mom stopped sleeping through the night. I'd hear her roaming the house and find her standing in the living room staring out the window. I was so thankful we had alarms on the doors in the event she opened one while everyone slept. I grew weary towards the end of the week as it was like having a small child to care for, one that wanted to roam the house all hours of the night. I noticed she was more aggitated in the late night hours as well, she was less agreeable and more upset at not being able to leave. I grew to dread the late hours in our home that week.
Despite having to share a bedroom with one another, the children adapted quickly to having their Nana around 24/7. They took turns keeping her busy with drawing, coloring, and tossing a ball. They would assist when she would get lost trying to find the restroom or know that if she hadn't emerged from the bathroom in awhile, to ask her if she needed help getting the door open. While they handled her not being able to do the simplest tasks such as finding the way out of the restroom, each task she couldn't complete was a crushing blow to my heart. I couldn't believe or understand what I was witnessing.
As my dad was feeling better and thought he would be released from the hospital soon, I shared with him a little of what I was witnessing with mom. If I was seeing this, surely he was too. If I was struggling to keep her occupied and safe 24/7, how in the world was he doing it all alone? He admitted he had also seen some changes in her, but that was the extent of the conversation. I didn't want to push it and let it drop.
My daily trips home for lunch allowed me to finish the work week without taking more time off. Scott never once breathed a word about the strain and disruption brought to our house that week and frequently asked how he could help as I took care of my mother. Saturday rolled around and dad picked her up. I was mentally and physically drained. Yes, that was my mother I had taken care of all week, but it was only her in body. She wasn't the same. Everything had changed. As they drove away I was scared of what was to come. There's no way my dad could maintain caring for her and himself, but there was no way I could tell him that. What had happened to my mom, my best friend. I longed for her to snap out of whatever was going on and come back to me. My brain kept trying to rationalize what was happening, but the tugging at my heart knew life with my mother would never be the same.
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