Someday my Mum will be free; free from the trapped world she lives in. Someday she will be able to talk again, walk again, and feed herself again. Someday my guilt for allowing her to suffer will diminish. Someday her dignity will be restored. Sadly, the day this happens, will the day she will depart from this world and I will never see her again. I wish that someday would come soon! Someday I will stop praying for her death.
I tried to kill my Mum once. There she was lying as still as a statue – she looked dead. Her skin had that youthful tight glow that appears just before death. Her breath was so shallow. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was dried shut. I listened intently for her last breath to come; willing her release to be quick, but her silent breaths continued. The doctors had called and explained she could go at any time, but they would do their best to revive her. I tried to explain, that my Mum wouldn’t want this, she didn’t want to be living her life like this; she wanted to go! I explained that my Mum knew she had dementia and knew she would end up like this and she made us, her children, promise to end her suffering. Sadly, none of us could do it. We couldn’t murder our own mother. We couldn’t put her out of her misery.
The doctor left me alone in my Mum’s room and closed the door. I kissed my Mother’s cheek and rested my fingers over her nose. For a couple of seconds my fingers tightened across my Mum’s nostrils. Suddenly, my Mum opened her mouth slightly and drew breath in. I released her fingers and cried with relief – she was still alive, I hadn’t killed her. My heart felt tight as if it was being crushed by a tight fist and I began to sob loudly. The doctor and nurses returned to the room, trying to comfort me, saying they would do their best, not to give up hope. Both of us were hoping for a different outcome.
My Mum is still alive. That experience was a few years ago and my Mum remains in her cocoon. I’ll never be able to hold a conversation or ask her opinion about anything. She will never tell me off, put me down or humiliate me. She will never laugh with me again. Mostly, I miss laughing with my Mum. I morn for my Mother every day and pray someday soon she will be free.
2 thoughts on “Someday”
My nan had dementia. It’s a horrible disease. Possibly the worst, you loose someone you love and are left with a shell. It’s so sad.
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Thank you – It is so sad for everyone involved.
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