But as an adult, and especially since having a child, I now see that time does fly. Twenty one years has traveled by at the speed of light. The thirty days between car payments and house payments seem like minutes. And my days off are gone in the blink of an eye.
So it is no wonder that we are already coming up on an entire year since our household spun out of control. One year since Luke's dad was tragically killed in a car accident, my wonderful uncle died, and then my mother passed away shortly after. All these events which happened within one month of each other, are now almost at that one year mark and it is hard to believe how quickly it has passed by.
And now, finally, like the spin cycle on the washer, things are slowing down and bringing themselves back to normal. Matt and I have grown accustomed to having another person living in the house. We have learned how to (somewhat successfully) manage having 5 dogs. My dad has adapted better than I had ever hoped to life without his wife. We have been through the various stages of grief and am pretty sure we are finally becoming proficient at the accepting. We are moving forward.
However, no matter how good I am getting at the acceptance part, I still have moments where I am back to square one. I miss my sons father. I still want to call him and talk to him about Luke and I hate that I can no longer do that. We always had one thing in common, no matter how much we disagreed on other things, and that was we both loved our son. We always enjoyed talking to each other about him.
I miss my Uncle David. Although over the years I didn't see him often, I knew I always could. And one of the things about him that I admired was that he always knew the answer to the question. Always. As my mothers dementia progressed over the years, her recollection of events wasn't always accurate. But Uncle David always remembered and could always set me straight. And he not only knew about the past, he knew about the present, The Detroit Tigers, politics and anything else you needed to know. I miss having that person in my life.
Today I missed my mother, for the first time. I know to all of you that miss your mothers that have passed away, this may sound strange. Through the last several years dementia took the mother that I remember as a girl growing up. She was replaced by an person who was angry much of the time. Angry at me all of the time. She blamed me and I blamed her. Although in my heart I know I did what was the best thing for her and my father, I also know she never forgave me for it. I would be lying to you if I said her death was not a relief from the anger and responsibility. It is difficult caring for someone who sees you as the enemy, the person who took her life away. And at the time of her death, my bigger obligation was to my son and helping him get through a very difficult time. So, any feelings I had, angry or sad, got pushed aside in the interest of the bigger picture.
Today I was going through a drawer and found a photograph of my mother and father taken by my Aunt Joanne. It was during the time prior to my parents no longer being able to live on their own. My moms silver hair is shining in the sun and she is genuinely smiling as she stands next to my dad. He is smiling too, and is wearing one of his yellow shirts he loves so much, along with his worn out Oscoda Lions hat. They are at the family golf course where they loved to go. I went to get a frame to put the photo in. I think I like it so much because it is a photo without any bad feeling tied to it. And then, as I was placing it in the frame, I begin to cry. And it surprised me. I cried, mostly because I would give anything to have my parents here. The ones in that photo, before dementia changed our lives. I cried because finally, I miss the woman that is in that photo. I cried, because finally, I miss my mother.
However, no matter how good I am getting at the acceptance part, I still have moments where I am back to square one. I miss my sons father. I still want to call him and talk to him about Luke and I hate that I can no longer do that. We always had one thing in common, no matter how much we disagreed on other things, and that was we both loved our son. We always enjoyed talking to each other about him.
I miss my Uncle David. Although over the years I didn't see him often, I knew I always could. And one of the things about him that I admired was that he always knew the answer to the question. Always. As my mothers dementia progressed over the years, her recollection of events wasn't always accurate. But Uncle David always remembered and could always set me straight. And he not only knew about the past, he knew about the present, The Detroit Tigers, politics and anything else you needed to know. I miss having that person in my life.
Today I missed my mother, for the first time. I know to all of you that miss your mothers that have passed away, this may sound strange. Through the last several years dementia took the mother that I remember as a girl growing up. She was replaced by an person who was angry much of the time. Angry at me all of the time. She blamed me and I blamed her. Although in my heart I know I did what was the best thing for her and my father, I also know she never forgave me for it. I would be lying to you if I said her death was not a relief from the anger and responsibility. It is difficult caring for someone who sees you as the enemy, the person who took her life away. And at the time of her death, my bigger obligation was to my son and helping him get through a very difficult time. So, any feelings I had, angry or sad, got pushed aside in the interest of the bigger picture.
Today I was going through a drawer and found a photograph of my mother and father taken by my Aunt Joanne. It was during the time prior to my parents no longer being able to live on their own. My moms silver hair is shining in the sun and she is genuinely smiling as she stands next to my dad. He is smiling too, and is wearing one of his yellow shirts he loves so much, along with his worn out Oscoda Lions hat. They are at the family golf course where they loved to go. I went to get a frame to put the photo in. I think I like it so much because it is a photo without any bad feeling tied to it. And then, as I was placing it in the frame, I begin to cry. And it surprised me. I cried, mostly because I would give anything to have my parents here. The ones in that photo, before dementia changed our lives. I cried because finally, I miss the woman that is in that photo. I cried, because finally, I miss my mother.
