1123

That's the number to her new room at Daysprings health care facility. AKA nursing home. We moved her in today after much thought, prayer, tears, and doubt. I didn't realize it was possible to feel this guilty about doing the right thing. I know it's the right thing because she's sick and we don't have the skills, time, patience, or ability to emotionally disconnect. All of which are necessary for her to receive the best care. This was absolutely the hardest day of my life, to date. Heather and I dropped her off in the morning and it became clear that we would have to make a clean break before long. She, Lamar, Tristan, Dad, and I went back this evening which also didn't go over well. She was hell-bent on someone taking her home. I know it's going to be like this for a while. We will continue to visit her every day if possible, so she knows we will keep coming back, but I doubt visits will get any easier for a long time. Along with the guilt and sadness, I feel like I'm in mourning to a degree. This just makes it clear that we are in the final stages, however long that will be. She will most likely never live in this house again. We will probably visit her in the nursing home for the rest of her days. We have already started talking about things in the past tense. "She was always so sneaky!" This part, I hadn't anticipated. I also didn't prepare for the sense of relief that I feel. It's kind of nice being able to leave my room unlocked or not wonder if I should check on her b/c she has been upstairs for a while. I don't have to tiptoe as I get ready for work tomorrow morning. But then I feel guilty for feeling relieved. Just can't escape the guilt right now. I know I will one day but for now I remain on the verge of tears as I think about how scared she must be right now or wonder if she feels betrayed. I kind of wish I could run out of tears. God, please mend my breaking heart.

Stay at home daughter

It's gotta be way harder than being a stay at home mom. At least when it's your child, you can discipline them and you can have hope that one day, they'll "get it."

So I moved home December 21, 2009 to help take care of my mommy, who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimers. Gave up my independence, freedom, a good job, and a great city (Nashville) to fulfill my daughterly duties. It sucks... but I would have it no other way. My dad can't do it alone. My sis-in-law (God love her) can't help as much as needed. And I want to be here. I want to support my dad and spend as much time with ma as I can. Who knows how much time we have?

Today, I found out she doesn't know I'm her daughter. I asked why she named me Deirdre and she insisted that she didn't name me, nor did she carry me for 9 months or give birth to me. She has kids but they're all young, according to her. It didn't hit me as hard as I thought it would. I guess I've kind of guessed this was the case over the past couple weeks. It makes sense, now, why she doesn't trust me. Why she doesn't like to go places or allow me to cook for her. I thought it was because she thought I was "child Dee-Dee" but I think she hasn't considered me a daughter all along. At least she hasn't forgotten Dee-Dee. She loves talking about my accomplishments and showing me pictures of myself when I was little. She loves her little girl! I'm just not her. I may not be her daughter anymore but she'll always be my mommy.