Mother Lament

I hate where I’m at, in regards to my mother. This is the most excruciatingly painful situation. Everyday it feels like someone is slowly dragging a long, jagged, knife across my stomach. More than anything I wish it was over. And hopefully it will be soon.

My mother’s want to go home is daily. It doesn’t matter that I have repeatedly told her she’s not going back. Nor does it register that I have specifically told her she will be living in a home, and have even asked her questions about the room arrangements. Either she doesn’t remember, or she refuses to listen and just demands to be returned to her house.

I have told her over and over that I don’t want to do this. I wish she could just stay in her house, but at this point it’s elder abuse. She can barely dress herself, she’s constantly having “accidents” and she can only eat finger foods. Silverware is absolutely out of the question. Should she use it, more of the food will end up on the same top she INSISTS on wearing everyday than in her mouth. The assisted living is the best option for her. And I wish she could understand that.

The other day my mom’s former “baby-sitter” mentioned to look for a live-in caretaker. Little did I know that when I signed up I was creating a job-listing. Since then I have had two people inquire, and now I’m questioning if I should do the memory care facility. Oddly enough, going the in-home route is insanely expensive. Here I thought assisted living rent was astronomical but… this is outrageous. It would be such an added expense for her that she would lose most of her accrued income. All so she could “pretend” she doesn’t have Alzheimer’s.

One of the ways my mother manipulates me is that she likes to remind me that she gave me everything I wanted when I was a kid. Here I thought it was because she loved me. Little did I know it was a mob-boss loan to where one day she would require the debt be paid. And for her, it’s due.

My mother is only going to get worse and eventually will need to be in a care facility. Just pursuing this “in-home caretaker” nonsense will just postpone the inevitable. I need to just rip off the band-aid because the wound is infected and needs proper care. Or I risk losing the limb.

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