Transitions
There have been quite a few times during the several months I've been my mother's primary caregiver that I've felt I am the parent and she is the child. But this morning I realized it really happened. I've turned into my mother. I actually uttered these words: "How many times do I have to tell you?" Ugh!
The question wasn't a result of me telling her to wash the dishes or clean her room or let the cat out. It wasn't anything similar to what I used to do (or not do) to evoke those words from her. So, what happened? Well, I told her five or six times over the last few days what my plans were for this morning. After each time, she asked if I would go to the pharmacy and pick up a couple of things for her. I said I would. This morning, we had the same conversation. I was so frustrated that I had to say it.
But it was more than just that one thing. It happens all the time. I mean all the time. Having any kind of meaningful conversation is very difficult. It's more than frustrating. It's sad to see her mind deteriorating. I know it's frustrating and sad for her, too. That's why I feel so bad for saying what I said.
I'm sure we'll both get over it ... eventually.
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