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As the phoenix . . .

How shall I, then, begin? I have been gone a long time, and now I'm back, I hope. I might as well charge right in.

My mother died on February 25, 2018 of Alzheimers dementia. She had been living with me, under my care, since December of 2012, although she had been exhibiting troubling symptoms for almost twenty years, now that I know what I was looking at. It was a hard journey the entire way, and you can probably trace the progression by the dropoff and cessation of my writing and socialization. The final three months, on home hospice, were especially grueling. But she got to die in her own bed, with her cst curoed against her. I was there to hear here final breath, which makes it all worth it, I guess.

People in the Alzheimers/Dementia world say that a caretaker of a dementia patient will lose hald their cognitive function from the stress. I don't know about that -- how would I, because I'd be the last to know? I do know that I lost my joy and my creativity.

Will I ever write again? I hope so, but I have a lot of healing to do.


Apr. 1st, 2018 06:37 pm (UTC)
That is so kind of you, Aerwen. l lost the woman who was my mother a long time ago. In her place was a needy stranger, who could turn malevolent if not placated, someone I had seen only brief glimpses of in my childhood. I'm going to have to sort through my conflicting feelings about the person she became over the last ten years. Fortunately, I'm used to self-reflection, and I'm more than halfway there, given that I no longer have the uncertain prospect of doing this for years to come and ultimately failing. At least I know I made it through and kept my promise that she would always have a home with me. I feel like I've walked through the fire and come out the other side hard as steel, just a bit rusty at the moment.