Fall

Fall

In the fall of the year my mother finds herself in the fall of her life.  The past couple of days she has not felt well and has not been herself.  That's saying a lot since she has not been herself for some time. 

It's sad and now the holidays have begun to take us through the rest of the year. I love the month of October. It is in fact my favorite month of the year.  But the holiday seasons itself I don't care for so much anymore. Not as a single man. And this year will be sad because of Dad's passing. 

Selfishly, I hope Mom hangs on till 2023.  I don't want to climb another emotional mountain this year. I don't feel like I can. I am a bit spent. On the other hand watching Mom's decline into Dementia's insanity is hard to watch and more importantly she is scared.  She is beginning to feel lost. 

Simple instructions or exercises are no longer simple. The middle knob securing the water faucet in the kitchen gets turned rather than the cold knob.  This creates quite a leak but is easily remedied. Doors are left unlocked by her when she opens them to check on the outside world and yours truly gets blamed for not locking the door.  Most responses to most questions one can conceive of are "I don't know".  Asking an either/or question typically gets the same response. She often attempts to share a thought or say something and can't find the words. 

Yesterday and today she has held her forehead a lot. She says it's nothing more than a mild headache when I can get a response from her but then quickly says it does not really feel like a headache.  It is just a dull feeling. 

Dementia is a disease in which the brain cells slowly die. 

Living Hell.

Fall

No more room (written sometime in August or September)

 When the cup becomes full there remains no more room

No more room for liquid slices of life to be distilled

No more room for solid bullshit that cannot be explained

No more room for patience when others don't see solidly

No more room for questions already answered

No more room for sleepless nights or lifeless days

No more room for otherworldly romance

No more room for anyone's illogical moves

No more room for miscommunication

No more room in the cup without spilling

No more room in the cup without cracking

No more room in the cup without spliting

No more room in the cup without tumbling

No more room in the cup without drying up

Dementia events

 I discovered Mom in the kitchen the other day removing ice and frozen particles from a frozen dinner. With a suggestion to put the wrapper back on top of the dinner and place the same in the microwave, the oddity was dissipated.

Tonight I laid down in my bedroom in the early evening. Was feeling a bit sick.  When I got up two hours later Mom came out of her bedroom with her arms open to me. She had awoken from her evening nap and did not know where she was.  Upon entering the bathroom she realized she was at home.

She grabbed me and held on tight like a child who had been lost but found her parent. 

It left me feeling empty.

 Dreams of work, dreams of ex-wives, dreams of my daughter have visited me in the recent past. And more recently I have had several dreams involving unknown women I had passions for. 

But first I digress. Walking is a healthy habit and has probably kept me alive the past year and more.  Now cats in the neighborhood are typical cats. Quite territorial and of course will not approach you like that of say, a friendly dog. I've been walking the neighborhood daily since February when Dad got ill and until the other day a particular black cat would not give me the time of day. 

But last week I once again got down on my knees and called him and to my shock the particular black cat came over and accepted petting while rubbing himself against my legs.  It felt so good. He now regularly does this when outside and our paths intersect. 

What I discovered with this cat is how starved I truly am for affection.  It has been years, many years since I've been in a serious relationship with anyone.  I'm starved for affection and didn't know it.

Digression over. Along came dreams the past few nights with unknown potential lovers with romance filling the air. Never escalating to sex yet saturated with flirting, touching, talking and smiling.  Wonderful ethereal excursions into the world of affection. 

Last night's dream was so real and blissful any words I would attempt to describe it would fall short of the reality of the dream. Just not possible so I won't go there.  But in the midst of the bliss and the escalating of emotions, I woke up.

I woke up to the present world. The world where I am still recovering from surgery. The world where I am the caregiver for my mother with dementia.  The world where attempts to sleep better with new sleep medication leaves me foggy the next day. The world where I never feel rested.  The world where I have not properly grieved yet for four people who have died in the past fifteen months. The world where I think it is 9 AM and it is noon.  The world where  I never seem to get accomplished all the many things that need to be done for the day.  

A world without physical touch or affection.

It left me feeling empty.