I am alone in the dying

I am alone in the dying.

There are many and varied rational reasons why I am alone, some of them of my own creation. This rationality doesn’t help to ease the deep feeling of isolation. No-one should go through this on their own and yet I imagine so many do. In this moment of my sad despair I wonder how I will get through this, it feels impossible and outside the realms of my physical and emotional strength. This morning it was too much, too hard and I believed I didn’t have sufficient strength to keep going, I could not keep seeing my Dad like that. But as a lovely friend gently said to me, “it is hard for you but know that every minute you spend with your Dad makes his life richer”. So true. And so how do I cope with the daily creeping death and the inevitability of Alzheimer’s?  The same way every else does is the only answer…..

We live in a constant state of anxiety, walking in the door not knowing if its ‘a good day’ or ‘a bad day’. And yet we steel ourselves, swallow our fear and walk through the door nevertheless.

We carry smiles on our faces to hide from them both their decline and the sadness in our hearts.

We hope for the best, every day, all the while knowing that this is a foolish and fruitless hope. Still, we hold onto hope.

We weep an imperceptible grieving weep that slowly eats away at our soul all the while remaining a tower of strength and function for our families.

We watch their past, present and future disappear as we plan for our own bright futures.

We laugh with our children but cry inside that they will never know their grandfather.

We hold them in our arms trying as we mortals might to save them from the ravages while never revealing that deep sad secret that we would find reprieve in letting them go.

The hatred we have for the disease and the toll it takes is only matched by the love we have for our family member.

On ‘the bad days’ the end seems to be an eternity away. On ‘the good days’ we fool ourselves into hoping that this never ends.

But end it does. And despite the years and months of decline and suffering and slow grief, it is still unbearable. Yet bear it we do.

That is how I will cope. That and wine and friends and tears and hugs and hugs and more hugs.

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