This is post number 400 and this one I am about to share with you is difficult for me so I need to tell it slowly.
Poison can seep inside you like a lusty spider crawling into your ear while you are asleep. At first you only get a hint or two of something being wrong. You ignore those until the poison is so obvious that you have to get medicine or die.
|Yep, that's me 1962|
She has been the center of my universe for as long as I can remember. A mother usually is. With the looks and charms of Grace Kelly this Norwegian beauty could have had any man but when she found out that she was pregnant with me she desperately grabbed her chance at a better life far away from Norway. She married a charming American, one that was not my father, but one that she had been dating and more importantly, one that was available. You have to remember that in 1957 moral conduct was viewed differently. A woman in Norway did not just get an abortion or raise a child on her own.
For the first time in three years since my mother had her stroke I am going to take her for a drive, the first time she has gone any further than her front door. As I am writing this I still wonder if I will get her out of the door and into the car. I have finally made a stand and it was not an easy thing to do.
“Either you go to the doctor or you go to a nursing home because I cannot do this alone anymore.”
Many words were shouted and tears fell in secret, as they still do. There are other members in this “household” but they turn their head and say, “Deal with your mother on your own. “ I really can’t blame them because she has alienated everyone in her family. I am the only one she ever talks to anymore. She has made it clear that she wants nothing to do with her children, her grandchildren or anyone else. She has no friends, no hobbies except the television and daily newspaper. This is not the woman I remember.
The worst part is that we are living in the same house. Every single day my husband, my son and I have to share the same space with a woman that has changed from something beautiful into a troll. My mother has turned the walls of this household into deadly mold and everyone within these walls is breathing it in. I really hope that I can get her out of the door and into the doctor’s office and that he will be like the Wizard of Oz and give her some magic pills that will return her into the world of the living. If not, maybe he can give me some pills to deal with this.
I will keep you posted. If you have any words of advice on how to deal with a parent who is forgetting your name I would love to hear it! More of this story to come...........