Somehow my blog went from being about a struggling gay Mormon to a gay excommunicated Mormon to a gay ex-Mormon whose Mom has dementia. But that's where my thoughts seem to be lately.
This evening my family had the big meeting about Mom's future. All my siblings and their spouses were there as well as my niece and nephew. Jonah would have come if he could have. We also had a couple of family friends who have gone through care-giving for elderly parents three times. They had some helpful advice that was, admittedly, hard to hear at times even though I knew it was good advice.
The meeting, needless to say, was not fun in the slightest. Needful? Yes. Enjoyable? Not at all.
I am drained. We have some very difficult decisions to make in the coming months, none of which I relish, but which, unfortunately, are necessary.
I had planned on writing about the meeting, but I realize I just can't do it right now. It's still too raw. I need time to process and recover a bit.
My main thoughts are that my heart and my mind are waging some intense battles. My mind knows certain things need to be done and should be done, but my heart is having a very hard time with it all.
Rationally, I know that going back home to Jonah is the right and needful thing for me to do. But my heart makes me feel like I am abandoning my mom and my family in what is sure to be a very difficult time. It didn't help that when I came home to Mom's house, she came out of her room in tears because she was all alone and thought I had already left to go back home to Jonah. I just held her in my arms for about two or three minutes while she cried.
And rationally, I know that we need to take over a lot of my mom's day-to-day affairs and make some hard choices that will cause her to lose much of her independence, but my heart is aching because that's the last thing I want to do.
And rationally, I know that getting rid of some of my mom's junk in her house is probably best in the long run for her, us, and my niece and nephew; but my heart feels with every item we get rid of, we're throwing another piece of my mom away, and that breaks my heart. And I feel I have to defend her because after all, it's her stuff, her memories, and she should have a say in the matter.
This sucks. I wouldn't wish the choices a family has to make regarding their ailing parent on my worst enemy.
There's a line from Steel Magnolias that makes so much sense to me right now:
"Shelby, as you know, wouldn't want us to get mired down and wallow in
this. We should handle it the best way we know how and get on with it.
That's what my mind says, I just wish somebody would explain it to my