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GRIEF SUPPORT GROUP FOR ADULT CHILDREN WHOHAVE LOST PARENTS
AND FOR THOSE WHOSE PARENTS ARE DYING. ALSO FOR ADULT CHILREN WHO HAVE PARENTS IN PERSISTENT VEGETATIVE STATES.
This group provides a therapeutic environment
via the Internet for grieving people to speak about
the loss of their parent or parents.
TO SUBSCRIBE SEE BELOW
Register and join list. Subscribe to regular version, (eachmessage mailed individually), or digest version, (all messagescompiled and sent in one mailing).
One of my web pages and where to contact me about this groupbelow:
http://www.angelfire.com/ny3/emilierose/
Grief-adult-parents-owner@yahoogroups.com
Click to join Grief-adult-parents
The purpose of this page is to tell you aboutthe new support group called Grief-adult-parents.
At Grief-adult-parents we receive letters fromothers in the same situation we find ourselves, and share witheach other our grief and difficulties coping with the loss of amuch loved parent. In this way, we help each other through thesedifficult times. We have the option to receive the letters eitherone by one as they come in, or daily in a compiled digest form.
We are a group of people who either haveparents who have died or are ill and in the process of dying.
There are not sufficient resources for those ofus who mourn parents. Although many websites exist for people whohave lost children or spouses, it appears that adults are somehowexpected not to fall apart when a parent becomes terminally illor dies.
Well, we do fall apart. Oftentimes our parentswere the rock who sustained us through life. As we lived ouradulthood, it was our parents who we turned to for advice andfriendship.
Our parents were our best friends besides beingparents.
When a person grows to adulthood and ceases torequire a mommy or daddy to teach them the ropes, sort of speak,our parents become our best friends and chief supporters.
This list is also for those whose parents maynot have always been close to their children. These children alsogrieve and often feel guilty, feeling that if it were not forthis or that, the relationship with their parents would have beenbetter.
For all those interested in a list such asthis, we all say welcome. You are definitely wanted here and onthis list, people will listen to you with sympathy and empathy,will offer advice on their coping strategies or lack of, and hereyou will find a non-judgmental atmosphere. This is a list whereyou can vent your frustrations and feelings of personal loss andemptiness.
MY STORY
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STAGESOF MY MOM'S LIFE
Up until my mother was 79 years old she was ingood health. After 79 she got macular degeneration of the eyeswhich did not respond to laser treatments. She became blind butwas plucky and managed to still enjoy life. I got her audio booksfrom the Lighthouse and she would call car service to take her tothe mall where she loved to listen to people conversing at thefood pavilions.
As time went on osteoporosis began eating awayat the vertebrae in her spine which caused continual fractures.She would be in great pain and unable to move.
My mother lived in the downstairs apartment ofmy house and I was her primary caregiver. Eventually my mom beganhaving TIA's, small strokes which impaired her ability to thinksequentially. I fought all of this, feeling that if I could keepmy mother interested in life, she would never "loseit".
By 1995 my mother's blindness and difficultywalking impaired her safety to herself. Every time there was anoise from the downstairs apartment I became terrified. Once mymother almost put herself on fire lighting the gas range to boilwater. I insisted she have full time live in help. I hiredimmigrants without green cards because that was all I couldafford. I taught them English and how to care for my mom. Thisway I knew my mother would not be alone when I was not home.
My mother also had vaso-vagal stimulation ifshe ate too much, and would "die"--keel over, and herpulse would stop. She would then spontaneously revive. I alwayslived in fear. Every time the phone rang I was sure something badhad once again happened to my mom.
In May of 1998, my mother had a large stroke.She was unconscious but revived while the paramedics were in thehouse. She was put in the hospital and for awhile there, Ithought she would be all right. The doctors wanted to know what I"wanted to do with her." I told them I would take mymom home. However, once home, my mom probably had more TIA's andsoon could not be moved without the necessity of a 2 persontransfer. She was very upset when she became incontinent. Shecould not stand the new foreign woman I had to care for her.
My son works for a good nursing home here onStaten Island, and despite my hopes of never wanting to put mymom in a nursing home, I knew if I did not do it this nursinghome would not have a bed the next time my mom went to thehospital.
After my mom went to the nursing home, (whichby the way, she liked enormously when she first got there),another TIA made food taste like poison to her. I brought foodfrom home thinking that the nursing home food was not to herliking. However, my mom still thought even my food tasted likepoison so I knew that her taste buds had been altered by thestrokes. She then stopped eating completely and sank into a coma.
I had signed a DNR, but had never anticipatedthat my mother would stop eating. Thin as my mother always was,she had liked a wide variety of foods. Blind people do not havemany enjoyments and food had been one of the things she couldenjoy whether sighted or blind.
My mother, who by the way, is now 95, comesfrom an era when people did not speak about their wishes shouldothers have to ever make decisions for them. I never feltcomfortable to ask her what she wanted. I know she would havethought I was insulting her had I asked.
Not knowing what to do when my mom stoppedeating and went into the coma, I hoped that she would once againrevive if I allowed them to insert a tube into her stomach forongoing gastrostomy feedings. By this time I felt that my mom wasin G-d's hands, so I did not worry about the procedure, did notworry if she would live or die. She was, at this point, so veryfar from the mother who had been my best friend and companion formy whole life. My mom came through the tubal insertion withflying colors but she did not ever really come out of the coma.
Once in a great while, perhaps every 3 months,my mom can answer yes or no to things I will ask. Most of thetime she is mute, lying in the nursing home bed, so well caredfor that she has not one bedsore after 15 months in the nursinghome. Her body is contracted, but on the few occasions that sheis alert, her yes and/or no answers are appropriate. She does nothave Alzheimer's.
I have let her know that it is ok to go toHeaven. I have told her I will be fine if she wants to go.(whether I will or not remains to be seen, but I have told hershe should not worry about me). On those occasions that she isalert, she has indicated to me in no uncertain terms, that shewants to stay alive.
The problem is that I do not feel that what mymother considers to be life, is life. However, I am not incontrol here. I go to visit my mom. I have cut my visits down tothree times a week because it is so very difficult to keeptalking when there are no answers. My life is not thatinteresting to sustain a one way conversation any great length oftime. I cry often when I visit her. Other times I manage to bestrong and I sing her songs or tell her stories. On August 7 ofthis year I sang her "Happy Birthday" for year 95. Itis so ridiculous because she was already in the coma or semi-comafor year 94.
When people ask me if my mom is still alive, Ireally don't know what to say. I know her body is here. Most ofthe time I wonder where she really is.
When I come home from my visit to my mom, Iswitch into my happy mode because my husband does not want to seeme unhappy. I cannot talk about this to my married sons as theymore or less act as if their grandmother is already in her grave.They do not visit often. Sometimes my husband will drive me tosee my mom, (when I am not doing it alone), but he will nevercome up because he "doesn't want to see her that way".
I have no siblings and nobody to talk to aboutthis ongoing situation. My "act" for my family is sogood that most of the time I believe it myself. I can go out andhave a good time and then often become guilty that I am enjoyingmyself when my mother is lying inert on a bed at Carmel Richmond.Then again, I know my mother would not expect me to lie down inthe bed next to her just because she is in this condition.
Outside of this debilitating stroke that felledher last year, my mother appears to be in good health. I amfrightened she will live on for years, blind and unable tocommunicate. I don't know what kind of hell my mother is goingthrough. She cannot tell me and if she could, I still would beunable to help her. It is unbearable to watch.
Despite her great age, a mother is still amother. She was my best friend and I am so worn down by thesepast 10 plus years that I cannot even remember what was sospecial about our relationship. Yet I know it was an extremelyspecial relationship. We were very close. Up until the day mymother could not speak any longer, I phoned her every morningwhile I had my coffee. Her life was centered around my happiness.When I was worried she would be the one to assure me thateverything would be ok. When I went through a divorce from myfirst husband she helped me financially to get on my feet. Shehelped me raise my children. We went out together. I enjoyed mymom's company better than that of any friend in my age group.Whether I was right or wrong about something, in my mother'seyes, I was always right. To my mom, I could do no wrong. Shewould tell her doctors, "ask Emilie, whatever Emilie thinksis right to do is the right thing."
My mother is the strongest woman I know. Shetaught me how to survive and that we all do survive everythingthat happens to us in life. She was a sexually abused child. Foryears, she was continually raped by her father. She grew up in aday and age when you did not go on Oprah and state that yourchildhood experiences caused you to screw up your life. My motheris from a time when you simply got on with things and made adecent life for yourself despite all odds.
Somebody in this group wrote that nobody, nother husband or children would ever be the same as having hermother love her. I feel the same way. Nobody will ever love me asmy mom loved me. Perhaps I do not love anybody as well as I lovedmy mother.
With my family acting as if she was alreadyreally dead, and my visiting her inert body at Carmel, I feel Ihave no closure. It is as if she died but did not. I don't knowwhere she is, (her soul, my real mom). I don't know if I walkaround numb. I do walk around disconnected, trying to live mylife and yet trying not to behave as if my mom was already gone.
I don't know if I shall grieve when my mother'sbody actually dies or will "toast" to her enteringHeaven. I do know that when she dies, I won't ever be able to hugher again.
Update:Saturday, February 17, 2001-- This afternoon my beloved mother passed away. Hopefully she no longer lives between worlds, but is in Paradise with all those who love her so very much. I shall miss you dreadfully Mom but shall not miss the life you have had these past few years. I pray your suffering is over and that you are now happy with the Angels in Heaven.
Emilie
