Here I am

Here I am, staring at my computer, not knowing where to begin. I haven't written anything since February, not by choice, but because of a bunch of crazy circumstances.

The short version of the story goes something like this: I became overwhelmed working full time and needed every single second of free time to tend to house and family; my parents both became ill and hospitalized, and my siblings and I spent a very stressful two months dealing with that. We have put my parents into assisted living, but the journey to get there, and all the physical and emotional stuff that came along with it has taken a toll on me. Every second of that journey is a story in itself, but for the first time in my life, I couldn't share how I was feeling. I think in any stressful situation, our bodies have a defense mechanism which allows us to get through it. I think I went numb emotionally because it was the only way I could handle it all.

I know some of you may be thinking, "You're parents are in assisted living, they didn't die. What is so stressful?" Well, like I said, that was the short version. And yes, they are physically alive, but they are not the same parents I once knew, they are only semi-recognizable versions of themselves, and I am mourning that loss.

We all have our own problems and I don't want this to be "woe is me," and come across as if I think I am the only one going through a difficult time. I just want to explain where I've been, and maybe share a few things I have learned about life and myself throughout this journey.

My mom has a form of leukemia, and her mind has been steadily declining for years. She still recognizes her family, thankfully, but her short term memory span is less than three minutes. She is easily confused and can't be left on her own at all. My dad, on the other hand, was the one who had all of his faculties, that is, until this recent turn of events. Sadly, dad seems to be declining at a faster rate than mom did. Mom has always been very pleasant throughout this ordeal, she takes direction, and is really easy to deal with. Unfortunately, with my dad, this was the exact opposite. Dad became extremely agitated and violent. He couldn't accept the fact that all these changes were happening, and he was fighting our every effort to help.

The strain of those weeks is something I will never forget. Finally, with the help of my dad's trusted doctor, and let's not forget medication, we were able to coax him into this assisted living facility. My siblings and I scrambled in the midst of all this to check out prospective places, and nearly had heart failure at the cost. I was stressed because I was just finishing up my first year back at work, and was trying to juggle that and hospital visits. When school ended I felt awful because my kids had to literally sit around and wait for most of their summer because I had innumerable things to deal with each day. Suffice it to say this is a summer we won't soon forget or ever want to repeat.

I had to sift through my parents' belongings and decide what they would and would not take with them because they couldn't do that on their own. I had to weed out my dad's socks and underwear with the holes in them, while he looked on helplessly. Basically, I had to take a 60 year marriage's worth of stuff and say, "Here's what is important, and it has to fit in this box." Thinking about it now makes my stomach flip, and as I said, I have learned a thing or two. I will save that for another day.

After a physically and emotionally draining moving day, we have them settled in a wonderful place. The care they receive is top notch, the workers who share their day are incredibly loving people, and the facility offers so much. They are limited in what they can do, but they seem content. Mom thinks she is in a hotel in Atlantic City, but if she is happy, then let her think that. Dad likes talking to the other residents, but the next day he doesn't even remember that he knows the person.

My brother had to go back to his family in Florida, and my sister and I are finally getting some sleep at night. At least we know they are eating three meals a day, and are getting the right medication. This journey is far from over because every day there is something that comes in the mail from their "old life" that must deal with, we are filling out about 600 forms just to get dad some veteran's benefits, and we still need to take them to medical appointments, etc. The biggest task that awaits us is going through our childhood home where mom and dad lived for 47 years to prepare the house for sale.

Reading this back, I realize I have left out so much, stuff that would make you tired just to hear it, but I think you get the gist. I'm rarely at a loss for words, whether it be spoken or written, but this experience has knocked the stuffing out of me. I'm hoping now that I have made this first start, I will be able to continue to share with you.

Summer is winding down, and that means back to work for me. I am slated to be the permanent substitute again, but I honestly don't know if I will be able to fulfill that all year. At every doctor visit, there is the chance we will be told that mom needs chemo again, and I need to be there through that. My saintly sister has been picking up so much slack through this whole deal, but even she has a breaking point, and I'm seeing it affect her health. Going through that house is going to be a job in itself, and not one I can do after school with kids by my side. With three kids and activities, weekends are just not an option. So I begin the school year really not knowing what lies ahead, and feeling very different inside. I don't want to parent the man who provided for me my whole life, or remind my mom, my mommy, to change her underwear. I don't want any part of it. But here I am.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Jo Ann