I read where many of you say things like ..'.blame the broken brain, not the person' ...or 'blame the disease, not the ill'. Let me tell you a story.
My 56 yr old diabetic brother died almost 8 weeks ago. He lived in a house with my 95 year old mother. I had been emailing him, then calling to ask him something. I did this for about 4 or 5 days. I got angry (the way you get annoyed with your brother or sister) so I send a final email telling my brother that I was going to call the police if he did not answer. He did not. I lived about a half hour drive away, so I drove to the house but there was no answer. I went back home, then called the local police and asked for a well-check.
Shortly after that my phone rang. The police woman told me that I should come back to the house. I asked why and she told me that my brother was dead. I returned. There were police everywhere, fire trucks, ambulance, detectives, and coroner investigators. The police kept trying to maneuver me, like a herding dog, to use this door, go that way, away from Jack's room. I asked to say goodbye to my brother. The cop took me aside and told me that my brother had been dead for several days. There was odor. There was significant decomposition and insect activity. The cop estimated that my brother had been dead for 3 days, in the house. With my mother.
As best I can tell, during those 3 days, my mom watched tv, ate english muffins, and took naps. She says she went in to Jack periodically, to try to wake him up. She NEVER called 911. To be fair, her phone was broken, but she easily could have asked a neighbor. She NEVER called me. She did not call anyone. She did NOTHING.
Either my brother died instantly, and my mom let him rot for 3 days. Or my brother was merely unconscious and my mother did not seek help for him for 3 days and he died. The death certificate stated cause of death as complications from juvenile diabetes. Yes, my mother has dementia. But the whole blame the illness, not the person? This is simply too large a cost.
I loved my brother and I wish he was here every day. I cannot get past this. I have found my mother a place to live and I can handle her daily problems, like bills, but I cannot get past what I am thinking. She cost me my brother.
Suggestions are welcome on how to recover but for those of you who take comfort in religious sayings, I don't, but thank you for the thought