Forgotten

Now I know what it must be like for people who have loved ones with Alzheimer's. In the last week, my mom has asked where I live, if Sara and Daniel are my kids, and if Sara, Daniel and John live with me. Just in the last two days, she has told at least three people that she doesn't have a daughter because I don't visit her anymore. She knows she can't remember things and she cries often.

We are sure the cancer has metastasized to the brain because of these recent developments. Even though she says she doesn't have pain, you can see it in her face. So they have increased the pain patch dosage.

My dad is continuously exhausted and I feel that I'm doing the best I can. I am going to start picking up their laundry and taking it somewhere to have it done. It just wears my dad out. When I do go to the house (at least twice, sometimes three times, a week), I take out the trash and do the dishes in the sink. I know that others who take them food and go visit do the same thing and I am appreciative of that. Their pastor is trying to arrange meals for them from the church. My mom eats very little but still sits up at the table several times a day. Everyone is, of course, concerned about my dad, too, and I've relayed that to him. He says he appreciates the concern, but he is eating. He is tired, but who wouldn't be? And he is able to go out daily to get breakfast from McDonald's and to the store.

Thanks to those who have brought meals and gone by to visit. I have a new appreciation for long-term caregivers. God bless 'em!

Love,
Anita