Do you want to keep busy so you won’t have to be alone with yourself? Do you find yourself depressed when you are alone with your thoughts? These feelings are perfectly normal as a caregiver for an aging parent.
It is easy to go through stages of depression when you are dealing with the care of your parent on a daily basis. It is easy to busy ourselves to the point of exhaustion because it is easier than to face the fact that your parent is ailing or dying. However, the previous behavior will only add stress to your life and will add wear and tear on your mind and body.
When I found myself in a normal state of depression, I would read a book or articles on losing a parent or would call a friend. It helped me come out of the doldrums.
You need to give your mind and body time to regenerate. As you regenerate, your depression and stress will ease. During these times you might even come up with new ideas to utilize in your care-giving situation, new ways to handle your grief over losing your parent, or in having a new outlook on life.
Do you have any other ideas of things that you do, as a caregiver, when you are feeling "down"?
Showing posts with label losing parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label losing parent. Show all posts
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Facing being an Orphan at 60
It is hard to face that I now represent the older generation. I am the oldest surviving child, the oldest surviving grandchild of my mother’s family. I hope with time I will gain strength, perspective and fortitude to carry on my family’s values, traditions and cultural roots.
What a responsibility it is to be the matriarch of the family! Matriarch—the term never crossed my mind until I became an orphan at 60, when both my parents died. It is an awesome responsibility for me to make certain that the generational link is never severed.
I’m not anyone’s child anymore. There is no smooth transition from being a child in the family to becoming an orphan. One day you have a parent and the next day you don’t. As a lifelong pleaser, it’s quite a revelation to know that there is no one to approve or disappoint anymore-- only yourself. You are it!
What a responsibility it is to be the matriarch of the family! Matriarch—the term never crossed my mind until I became an orphan at 60, when both my parents died. It is an awesome responsibility for me to make certain that the generational link is never severed.
I’m not anyone’s child anymore. There is no smooth transition from being a child in the family to becoming an orphan. One day you have a parent and the next day you don’t. As a lifelong pleaser, it’s quite a revelation to know that there is no one to approve or disappoint anymore-- only yourself. You are it!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Dementia and My Mother
My father had dementia. At times my father did not know who my mother was or that she was ill. He sometimes referred to her as the “man without hair” or sometimes referred to her as two people. My mother had non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and had taken treatments that caused her to lose her hair. He did not remember my mother’s name and for the last few years of her life did not say her name. This was ironical since all of my childhood and adult years; I would hear him say her name thousands of times. “Marina, where’s my coffee”, “Marina, get me a glass of water”, or “Marina, have you heard from the kids?” You see my father was totally dependent on my mother to take care of things, always.
My mother was a woman who for fifty-nine years cooked special and delicious meals for my diabetic father. This was a woman who served my father coffee in bed every morning of their married life. I do not know of anyone as selfless as my mother. She was his second “mother”, his partner in business, his love, and his caregiver. How could he forget her name?
My mother would get very frustrated and her feelings would get hurt when he wouldn’t say her name. Can you imagine your spouse forgetting your name after you have devoted a lifetime to their well being? It didn’t make sense to her. It didn’t make sense to me or my siblings.
In his state of dementia, you never knew when he would be in his “zone” or in reality. He always recognized my siblings and me, for which were very thankful. We asked if there was any medication to help his memory but there was only Alzheimer’s medication which was prescribed and he took but it did not help. There was no medication for dementia.
My mother never gave up, even when she saw no improvement in my father’s condition. When I called my mother on the phone, she would ask me to talk to my father. She wanted him to have conversations with people to help stimulate his brain. We did not know at this time that my father was having small strokes that were deteriorating his brain. My mother tried to get him to remember things. Again, we didn’t know at the time that one of the worst things you can do is try to force dementia patients to remember things. She could not take care of my father’s problem which was impossible for her to accept.
My mother had great difficulty coping with my father’s dementia. Sometimes he acted normal and other times he was like a stranger. The ups and downs of dementia is what my mother contended with hourly, daily -- for nearly two years, until her death.
How do you take care of one parent who is dying while taking care of the other who has dementia? Which one needs the most attention? How do you tell your mother to be logical, not to be so emotional when her heart is breaking? What could I have done differently?
Visit http://www.thecaregiversvoice.com/blog/blog/ to read more articles about dementia.
My mother was a woman who for fifty-nine years cooked special and delicious meals for my diabetic father. This was a woman who served my father coffee in bed every morning of their married life. I do not know of anyone as selfless as my mother. She was his second “mother”, his partner in business, his love, and his caregiver. How could he forget her name?
My mother would get very frustrated and her feelings would get hurt when he wouldn’t say her name. Can you imagine your spouse forgetting your name after you have devoted a lifetime to their well being? It didn’t make sense to her. It didn’t make sense to me or my siblings.
In his state of dementia, you never knew when he would be in his “zone” or in reality. He always recognized my siblings and me, for which were very thankful. We asked if there was any medication to help his memory but there was only Alzheimer’s medication which was prescribed and he took but it did not help. There was no medication for dementia.
My mother never gave up, even when she saw no improvement in my father’s condition. When I called my mother on the phone, she would ask me to talk to my father. She wanted him to have conversations with people to help stimulate his brain. We did not know at this time that my father was having small strokes that were deteriorating his brain. My mother tried to get him to remember things. Again, we didn’t know at the time that one of the worst things you can do is try to force dementia patients to remember things. She could not take care of my father’s problem which was impossible for her to accept.
My mother had great difficulty coping with my father’s dementia. Sometimes he acted normal and other times he was like a stranger. The ups and downs of dementia is what my mother contended with hourly, daily -- for nearly two years, until her death.
How do you take care of one parent who is dying while taking care of the other who has dementia? Which one needs the most attention? How do you tell your mother to be logical, not to be so emotional when her heart is breaking? What could I have done differently?
Visit http://www.thecaregiversvoice.com/blog/blog/ to read more articles about dementia.
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