Where were you last night Spongebob? I look forward to our Friday night natters.
It's all extremely subdued this end.
For six years, prior to my prostatectomy, 16 months ago. Me and my younger brother used to take it in turns, a month about, caring for my mum. She lived with us at our respective houses. From the day dad died, we took over caring for her, she was 93 years old at that time.
Even at that age she was physically fit, could still touch her toes, and was mentally alert. She'd spend most of her days off doing wordsearches, crosswords and reading. She was a school dinner lady for over twenty years and adored kids. She was still most happy when she was with her grandkids.
Unfortunately whilst caring for her, both me and my bro were diagnosed with PCa. This coupled with other health issues made continuing to look after her impossible, and we had to put her into a local care home. She was 100 years old this January, and got a card from Chaz and Cami.
Unfortunately, a few days ago mum began to fade quickly, and currently is now on 'end of life' care. I know she's had one hell of an Innings and no-one can live forever, but it's still sad to see her in the state she is. She was always as bright as a button, but just in the last week, although still just responsive, she doesn't recognise us anymore.
Her room is full of photos, telling the story of her life. Pictures of her and dad when they first met, she was a nurse and he was a soldier. Photos of her with me and my bro when we were toddlers, right through to photos of her with her greatgrand kids. It makes you think of your own mortality.
Although she is being very well cared for, the poor old gal has no longer got any quality of life.
At least I can get some comfort from knowing that she, unlike myself, is a 'believer' and is looking forward to being back with dad.
In-between visits we'll just be waiting for the inevitable phone call.
It's like were all living in limbo.
Edited by member 02 Jun 2024 at 08:23
| Reason: Typo