Sadness Hangs in the Air

My dear friend's mother and aunt died last week. The two sisters were not to be separated by death, so they died only 2 days apart. We attended the wake and the mass to offer what small consolation we could to the family.

Today, after the funeral mass, we went to visit my mother and uncle. I think I needed to do this to support my own opinion that I am, indeed, doing what I should for my mom. You see, it never feels like enough-- I always believe that I could somehow make her feel more connected to the present, less foggy of eye and spirit, and generally lift the haze that now endures within her. Such are the musings of someone who likes to be proactive and who hates to see mom the way she now is.

I busied myself with straightening clothes and replacing hearing aid batteries, but also found stashes of hoarded cookies and medication that was never swallowed. I immediately addressed the medication issue and was promptly yelled at by mom because she believed that I was tarnishing her reputation as a smart person with the nurses. My reward for caring was being told that I have no respect for my mother!

The sadness hangs in the air. I am grateful to visit my mom and feel that I do what I can. But, watching her decline, arguing about things not based in reality, and losing the person piece by piece brings a heavy sadness to my very core. I leave her exhausted not because of the work I do or the trip to get there. I am worn out by the ever changing landscape and the vacant look I sometimes see in her eyes. My mom is already partly gone to me but the duty and responsibility to honor the person she once was remains.