PYHO: Trapped

Linking up with Shell again for PYHO.

For all intensive purposes, the past month or so has been pretty great.  We went on vacation (more on that tomorrow) and I got a new job and am getting hell out of this terrible place.  My kids are amazing, my husband loves me.  Life is pretty good.

But no matter how awesome life is going, there's a cloud that hangs over me.

I don't know that I've ever said this in these words.  I always beat around the bush.

I want my mom to die.

I haven't seen her since vacation.  She has no life at all.  She can barely even move her head any more, or sip from a cup.  My stepdad has to carry her from place to place, and when he put over his shoulder, she was like a sack of potatoes.  She's been like that for awhile, but for some reason that time, that image, seemed so much WORSE to me.

She can't say much, but you can make out (sort of) Hi, Love you, Pretty (Maggie), but not much more.

I called her after vacation and she tried to say hi, but I could no longer make out.  I only knew it was Hi because it's my mom.  Before, anyone would have been able to tell it was Hi.  Not anymore.

She sits in the family room, on the couch or in a chair, all day long.  She can't move.  She can't even move to tap her finger, or to move a hair from her face.  She doesn't even really sneeze ever because the muscles that cause you to sneeze are paralyzed.

Someone feeds her.

Takes her to the bathroom.

Wipes her.

Moves her hand if she wants it in a different spot.

She can't do anything.  Her life is one of nothing.  And no matter how happy it makes her to see us, and her grandkids, her life is NOTHING.  She has no life.  Seeing people you love cannot overcome that sadness, that depression, that ache to simply be able to pucker up to give someone a kiss.

I know she is miserable.  I know she is not accepting help because she has finally accepted the fact that she wont' beat this.  That she can't win.   That she's going to die, and most likely soon.  That she can't do anything she wanted to do before she died.  That she'll die never holding her grandchildren.

At least she knows I love her.

And I love her so much, I want to let her go.