Finding Closure

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted.  It’s been a rough few weeks. 

Mom passed away Saturday before last.

Each time I’ve tried to write, the words have been slow to come.  I’ve probably pressed the backspace more than any other key on my keyboard.  Nonetheless, I need to find my balance, re-engage the world around me, and begin the process of establishing my new normal.

How it Happened

It didn’t really come as a surprise, other than the speed of her final decline.  She’s been on a slow and steady decline for some time now, but the changes during her last two weeks were huge and came almost daily.  First the sundowning and delusional behaviors, then the loss of her ability to walk and to talk.  She lost any desire for food or drink; she even lost the ability to swallow, and finally even the ability to open her eyes or respond in any way to us.

Closure…

Previously, part of my safety protocol during this COVID-19 crisis had been to ask that all family visits be outside on our lawn.  But as I started to see how fast these new changes were coming, I opened the invitation for all family to come and her visit in the house so long as they wore masks and used the hand sanitizer I keep by the door.  Many were able to come and visit, leaving with a deep sadness to see how this once vibrant woman was now losing her ability to even speak coherently.

The Friday before mom passed away, the nurse who checked on her told me it was unlikely she would make it until Monday.  I immediately informed the family that it was time for them to come and say goodbye if they wanted to do so.  Several came, and some preferred to remember mom the way she used to be; I respect both choices.  But I knew that for those who did want to take the opportunity to say their last goodbyes, this was a critical step forward in finding their closure with this terrible loss.  Some lost an aunt – some, their favorite aunt.  Some lost a sister-in-law, but amongst the most deeply impacted were those who had lost a sister.  A sister they had loved dearly for more than 80 years.  And one had lost his mother.

We decided to have a family-only graveside service, which I led.  I felt so strong and so prepared as I started delivering her eulogy – that is, until I began speaking and making eye contact with all the others who were feeling such a tremendous sense of loss… and that’s when I lost it.  I recovered my composure enough to make it through her eulogy.  I shared two stories, the first was one of mom’s favorite stories that, despite how many times we’d heard it, never failed to make us laugh.  And everyone laughed this time as well, it felt so good to have this feeling of happiness fall right in the middle of all that we were going through.  The second was another of mom’s favorite stories, a story of hope.  After that, I asked all who were willing to come up to share their own favorite story about mom.  Many of those present shared, and it felt good.  We laughed and we cried – but most of the stories involving mom are the kind that make you laugh, and so it was on this day.  It helped, and I think that most of those present were able to find some level of closure.

Caregiver Loss

I’ve been focused so much on helping the rest of our family find closure, that I’m not sure I’ve addressed my own needs sufficiently.  I know that I am at peace with her taking her next great step into whatever comes after this life, and I’m so happy she isn’t suffering anymore.  Still, as I turn my attention inward, I discover that I have so much to figure out now.  I need to learn how to be in this world again, not as a caregiver, but as myself.

The first week was the hardest.  I was amazed at the number of times each day when my mind would turn to mom with a pang of alarm – Where was she?  Was she ok?  How long had I been gone??? Oh, that’s right…

I’m reading now about caregiver loss, and I’ve learned that it’s very complex.  I’ll be posting on this in the coming weeks, but the thing that keeps striking me as I read is… oh, yeah, that’s exactly how it feels.  My takeaway is that although no two people, situations, or experiences are exactly the same, there are similar threads, and reading stories from others who are experiencing or have experienced it can offer insights that help us better adjust to what’s happening now.

Finding My New Normal

This is my biggest challenge.  I had a life of my own before becoming a caregiver, and I’m trying to find my way back to an understanding of how to be just me again.  Yes, there’s a void.  And the sense of purpose that used to fill most waking moments has been removed from my day to day life.  And suddenly, there’s a freedom that continues to send subconscious alarm bells to my mind every time I take an opportunity to reach for it.

What did I do before to fill this free time that’s now becoming available?  What will I do with it now?  What changes will I have to make to return to just being in this world as myself, without someone else completely dependent on me?

Finding my new normal is my next critical step.  So far, I’m trying to find opportunities to spend much needed quality time with the love of my life, and this is a good first step.  I’m working to get this place (mom’s home for 35 years) cleaned out, and to make it my own.  I think that will help as well.  I just need to remind myself of what I did before I was a caregiver and start doing some of that again.