I was wondering if anyone has any tips on how to handle the constant state of mourning one experiences when they are taking care of someone with later stage Alzheimer's disease? I am finding it harder and harder to even want to be in the same room with her. I know I have to so I can help take care of her needs, but I look at her and just shake my head most of the time wondering how it got this bad for her and for us. I feel grief every day from this, and now I am wondering if I will even cry when it's over or will I just be in a state of shock? I think I will feel relief too because it will all be over finally. It may sound harsh, but I feel that nobody should have to live in that state of mind and with all the physical problems she has. How do I deal with being around her constantly and not go crazy myself from the sad situation it has become? Any tips would be appreciated. Thank you.
I talk about it openly now, and sometimes even my adult sons -- whenever I say or do something "off the wall" -- tell me that Dad is watching me. I know he is.
At thevery minimum, is a way of observing ourselfs, as if we were there
Good luck for all
My heart is in the same place. I love my Mom but watching her go from the vibrant, intelligent, loving life woman to how she is now is so heartbreaking. We talk about the same few things everyday. Her mind just seems stuck. Her perceptions are really off — she will just say the most off the wall stuff, and it is just increasing. At times I am angry that I have to be the one to witness this on a daily basis and then I feel it is a privilege to take care of my dear Mom these last few years. Ambivalent feelings I live with on a daily basis. I just have to always remember that it is not her fault but oh do I miss my lively, intelligent, life loving Mother....
What a beautiful prayer. I envy people who can put their words together like that. I pray every day but I have never been able to say anything so clearly as you have said it. I think I will print it out and save it to read. You inspire me. Thanks
Nancy