I had a thought

I was wondering if maybe the reason agonizing death of a parent is nature’s way of making it so that you find it easier to bear the loss of them. So that instead of finding it a heartrending grief striking loss, you see it a merciful release.


I think it sucks if that is the case. Looking forward to my father’s death as way as a way out of a life that is only awful now for him (and let’s be honest here, me as well) makes me feel guilty as all hell. Like I am actively conspiring in his murder. Which I might if I could. Or I would at least think about doing if I had the means. I don’t know if I could actively follow through on it but right now I would consider it.


Tonight I talked to my elder brother (the one that lives here) and I was very frank about the way that my dad was. He was surprised as he doesn’t see it. Oh, he sees the weakness and pain and decline but he doesn’t see the incompliance, the demands, the incessant nursing requirements, the nursing attentiveness, the constant on call, the rage, the out of control nausea, the unmanaged pain, the cleaning up of continence issues.  He sees the twice weekly chats for a hour or so at most and a phone call here or there. I think he thought I was exaggerating. I was too tired to try to convince him otherwise and when he said that we would just get nurses in I could feel his exasperation when I told him that my father would not let that happen.


My father is technically still in control of his own faculties so he gets to call the shots. I am not next of kin and I don’t get to discuss things with doctors or nurses. My stepmama is totally subservient to his wishes and all I can do is support her until she collapses. I can see it coming. I hope I can keep it going until then because I am finding it very hard.


About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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