If you’re looking for some sort of indication of how things are going in my life, the fact that it’s June and my Christmas decorations are still not put away might give you a clue. The Christmas tree is down and packed away. But that’s about as far as I’ve gotten.
In fact, I walked into the kitchen this week and found the bloody, severed head of a groundhog lying on my kitchen floor. I had no idea where the body was – although I found it later. I had a pretty good idea how it got there; my dogs think they’re defending our house and yard from alien invaders when they do something like that. But really? MY KITCHEN FLOOR?!?!?!
And THAT is how my life has been going.
I thought I was handling everything pretty well, that I had this entire grief process down to a fine art when I went to Florida in March with my dad and a couple of my brothers. They go there every year for fishing and invited me to tag along for a change of scenery and spring training baseball (Let’s go Braves!!). Since I could take my computer and work anywhere, it seemed like a good idea and it turned out to be the perfect break from the same four walls I had been staring at for so long.
What is it about reality that it has to interfere with idyllic times and rest/relaxation? I promise you, we weren’t in Florida for long – just 10 days – but while we were there, one of our relatives called my middle brother. Let’s call this relative Auntie Mame to protect the innocent and maintain some privacy. Auntie Mame had visited her bank and the folks there suggested that she get a trusted family member involved in her finances – so she called my brother.
Oh boy – talk about opening the proverbial can of worms.
Turns out Auntie Mame lives in the same small town I do and, in addition to a variety of other age-related health problems she has, she is also dealing with . . . wait for it . . . DEMENTIA! Yes, it’s our old friend, back again!
As my brothers and I have delved into her finances, living conditions, health and all the other issues Auntie Mame has kept to herself over the years, it has become apparent that she cannot continue to live on her own, cannot drive, cannot handle her finances and basically needs someone to be a caregiver for her.
Isn’t this where I came in, about four years ago?
In fact, as I’ve been spending more time with Auntie Mame over the last couple of months, she has done things and said things that I would have sworn had come straight from M during his illness. It’s uncanny.
This post has gotten much longer than I intended, so I’ll close for now. More later – I’ll fill you in on my retirement from work and my continuing roll as dementia caregiver extraordinaire.
I have wondered how you are doing and I’m glad you posted an update. It’s a long bumpy road, isn’t it? And life just keeps on happening. Blessings.
Thinking of you often…thank you for the update.
Good to hear you had a retreat to Florida. Thinking of you while you deal with your Aunt.
Always good to get an update from you and I’m glad this post didn’t include getting attacked by an alligator! Bless you and your family for following up on Auntie Mame’s affairs but don’t let it eat you up!
Thinking of you Linda. God works in mysterious ways. He knows what a wonderful caregiver you are. Keep us in the loop.
I’ve been thinking of you and praying for your next chapter. Who knew! But if anyone can navigate it, it’s you! Congrats on retirement and please take care of yourself! ❤️
So very glad to read more about your journey. Every post is both touching (can’t stop the tears) and funny! You have a way with words and an understanding of the absurdities of life!. Sending a big thank you and lots of hugs!
I have thought of you often. Praying for you as you start the caregiving again. It’s not easy.
Hey, you’re my number one pick for my caregiver, with or without the “D” word. Now to get that down somewhere legal😇
That’s what you get for being highly competent at everything: finances, coordination of health care, housing expert, entertaining, and a lot of patience thrown in to boot.
You can feel free to write about me, too. as I have a feeling I’ll make your previous patients look easy. In return I’ll make you heir to four hungry horses, two geriatric dogs and two young dogs that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to rehome.
Glad to hear from you and glad you got away for a while. Good luck with the caregiving.