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"I Love My Mother, But I Don't Like Her"


Jess... I was thinking also along those lines... And, for all those that commented.

Heart, great blog. I found myself wondering how old her parents were and if her tune would change if they started needing care.

Interesting read...nextavenue

I've thought similar things, JessieBelle. My mom has complained it's not much of a life, and I have to agree. Some people do well as they age, though. My mother-in-law is two months older than my mom, and she is active. She drives. She has a great memory. She's curious about politics and is better informed than just about everyone else I know about it. She tends to her roses. She cooks, reads, socializes with her kids, grandkids, sisters and other in-laws. Then there's my mom, who sits around and complains all day and just goes to the bathroom and eats and occasionally does a word puzzle and smokes. She would have contacts and friends, except whenever she was unhappy (much of her life) her approach was to move or cast people from her life. So now she's nearly 80 with a strained relationship with her daughter and decades' worth of family and friends who she tossed from her life.
I don't know why some people, the light goes out, but sometimes it just can't be much of a life. I hope if I make it to 80 or whatever I can still enjoy movies or books or little things in life, and not turn into a grumpy old vegetable nursing grudges! I don't want to be the person who just eats and pees and poops all day.

It's another day. I think of how the last 10% of my life has been going through the same routine each day. Again today I am worried about that dirty, dirty bedroom of my mother's. She covers it with blankets so the cold air can't blow through the "cracks in the floor." She has old shoes and clothes stuffed about. She won't get rid of them, even though she can't wear them. It's impossible to clean, but I know I really should try. How did it ever come down to this?

My mother's life is really the life of a zombie. There is really no life left in her. She walks back and forth to the bathroom all day. She does cook her own breakfast right now and does a bit of laundry. But that is all. And I know that doctors and my care are the only things keeping her alive. I wonder how it has ever come down to this.

As families and as society we really do need to work to solve the problem of elder care. We can't shorten lives, but we also can't expect people in the future to continue doing what we are doing. Traditionally families have taken care of their elders, but traditionally elders haven't needed extensive care for 10-20 years. Modern medicine has created a huge problem that we're not prepared to handle. When you're in the middle of it, you wonder why in the world you're donating your life to someone so they can walk back and forth to the bathroom all day. And you are really stuck because they might fall. But then you have to wonder, so what if they fall? Goodness, medications and we are the only things propping them up. It just makes no sense at all.

And then they're mean to us?? If someone did for me a small fraction of what we do for our parent, I would never be able to say thank you enough.

Heart2Heart, basket of gold. I looked it up, and it says it's not always ideal in humid climates, so it may not work well in Michigan, but it's pretty. And seems related to Alyssums, which are so pretty and smell so good. I'll have to keep an eye open nonetheless...
JessieBelle: The Thomas poem, I always thought it was about seeing life through to the end, too. I need to go re-read it now, and mull over the details, but I never saw it was being angry about the end, or trying to be bitter at the end.
As for Mother's Day, I was having a panic attack Saturday en route to my mom. I found an old Xanax and took half of it, just in case. Turns out the visit went OK. Did a bit of shopping and took her to a diner she likes, and the sun was out, which seems to influence her moods. A snowy, overcast day, and she acts like a tantrum-prone toddler, but with the sun and it being pleasant out, it reflected her mood. I was grateful that she wasn't angry.
She brought up the power of attorney stuff, and I told her I have nothing to do with it. I get no money, I handle no bills, etc. The attorney is in charge of it all. End of story. She said she was happy to resolve it. (For now, I'm thinking...)
Of course she then called me the next day and said it was a good day and reiterated she was happy to resolve that issue because she didn't want to start up a bunch of lawsuits and have me put in jail. OK. Whatever! I'm sure she'll want to sue again, and I say go for it. It doesn't take a lot to see there are problems with her. She'd be in court for five minutes -- if she could even take anything that far -- and she can't even carry a clear thought or hear what people say, so ... whatever. Let her daydream. Some people fantasize about getting away to Aruba or buying a dream house. She fantasizes about revenge.

I had the same mom as most of you. My mother had narcissistic personality but had two sides. One was what no one else saw behind closed doors with her family and another face she put on elsewhere. In 60 years she never said one kind, nurturing or loving thing to say to me. No recognition of the many achievements I worked hard for. She was also extremely physically abusive until I was 55 and she raised her hand to hit me and I put her up against a wall and told her if she ever did that again first I would rip her arm out of the socket and secondly I would have her arrested for assault. At 30 I moved 1500 miles away to get as far away as I could. I came back to Dallas 25 years later thinking I SHOULD to be here if she needed me in her final years. Huge mistake. Last year she was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. I took care of her until the day she died and was also taking care of my longtime boyfriend who was severely handicapped from a TBI and had dementia at 56. He had become a nasty, miserable and abusive person because of his illness too. So I was taking care of two ungrateful narcissists each of them hurling venom at me constantly. I'm not sure how I managed to refrain from putting a bullet in my head. Probably only because of the grace of God.
You would think that if someone was on their death bed you might spend sometime with them remembering the past good times (not many of those) or telling each other you loved them or exchange a few kind remarks but not from MY mom. Three days before she passed I brought her cane in (she only used it when she was not at home - and she was never going to use it again) that she had left in my car. I hung it on the doorknob where she usually put it but hung it on the right side of the doorknob instead of the left side like she liked it. She started screaming for me to get my sorry ass over there and hang it the right way. I simply said "Does it really matter?" Then she yelled "I swear to God I will never ask you to do another thing for me for the rest of my life!!!" REALLY!!!! I said "I would take that back if I were you." Of course she refused until I reminder her who had the morphine and dilaudin. When she passed I was so relieved that that source of torment was over for me. But the joke was on me. While cleaning out her house I realized there was not ONE single photograph of me anywhere. Tons of pics of my sister who had not spoken to my mom in over 20 years but no documentation of my life existed. I am trying to put 60 years of hatred behind me but I don't think you ever REALLY recover from being treated with such disregard. I have never been to the cemetery where both of my parents now reside and I will never go. Why put myself through that? To dredge up memories of an unloving and abusive mom and a father who never stood up for or defended his children. No thanks. I'm gonna let sleeping dogs . . .
No matter how much you try you can't change them and trying to figure out where things went wrong is just wasted energy. Don't expect something miraculous will happen at the end of their lives. It won't. Having said that I bought a big bottle of white wine to break open and drink on Mothers Day. I'm the mother to a two year old rescued Great Dane/ Sherperd who loves me unconditionally. For now that's good enough reason to celebrate!!!!!! God bless all you survivors out there. You are in good company on this site.

I wish that this was posted years ago. I am still dealing with the repercussions from caring for my mom. I do not feel any guilt about her but I do with my own family.

This headline fits my situation and my Mom to a tee. She has lots of milk but very little honey. A hard worker, who doesn't complain about that, but constantly berates my dad, even before he unfortunately got dementia, and criticizes us kids ( except our only brother) even when we cook or clean or otherwise try to help her and Dad. He now has dementia and she has arthritis which is painful when overworked particularly in her legs.It took some time for Mom to accept our help with the work and interacting with Dad. We suggested home care for Dad's care, cooking, cleaning to supplement our help. but she refused. Now she's recovering from bypass surgery. We've willingly been with her and Dad 24/7 thru surgery and recovering at home. Mom is now moving aruond well, and is astounded that she has very little arthritic pai neven tho she does state it's because she isn't working right now.Now that we're thru the main crisis we can leave themalone together for a few hours and need to plan for us kids getting back to our own families and lives. However, we are back to square one. We still want to be there to help take care of them, drive to appts. help with finances etc. as before the surgery but if now is not the time to bring in some hired help, I don't know when it will be. Continues with same refusal. Anhy suggestions?


I'm soooooo glad you got out today Jess... And, glad your mother is in a better mood. Yes, I understand about walking on eggshells... Don't you just love the high high's and low low's we go through?... I don't think that does our heart and soul any good...