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  • Writer's pictureLickety Glitz

A dark place.

Updated: Dec 9, 2020

I want Mom to die in her sleep tonight. Without pain, peacefully, not even aware.

I want to wake up tomorrow, go into shock, move through the day in a haze notifying authorities, and those closest to her. Gather The Other Girl and my nephews together for support in the days ahead.

I want to host our family and friends at a lovely funeral that honors all of who Mom is - before and after dementia. I want tears, hugs, laughter, rejoicing that she was a part of us, that our lives are better having known, and stuck by her.

I want them to pat The Other Girl and I on the back, tell us how great we were with her, that she knows now that we were wonderful daughters and did an amazing job at helping her through dementia to the end of her life.

I want all this so I can be released from a growing chasm of fear; fear that I am no longer capable of being amazing with, or for, Mom. That what dementia is bringing to the table will result in my deepest, darkest, ugliest failure. That of all the failures I have pulled off in my life, and there have been many, and they have been spectacular, this will be the worse. Worse than not having been here for Dad when he was struggling as a caregiver - showing up only at the end when his quality of life became irrelevant - quality of death having taken over.

Dementia is looming over my shoulder to teach me lessons about myself I do not want to learn. Today I have no hope that I will survive them.

I want out of dementia.

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