He sits, he pauses. He says ‘Hello!’ And his face lights up
with recognition.
‘Hello You’ I say. ‘Hello Dad.
And I’m staring into a face that is oh so familiar, yet
there is a stranger lurking behind those eyes. My dad is currently in hospital, awaiting a
hospice bed. He is dying. And the brain Cancer has finally done a number on
him. It’s like watching a toddler. His movements, unsure as the message to grab
something is garbled on its way down to his thin fingers. His head is jerky in
its movements, as he starts to eat something, and a bird flies past the window,
and he turns to look at it, dropping ice cream down himself. He then turns
back, and can’t remember what he was doing. ‘Oh yeah’ you can almost hear his
brain click. ‘Ice cream!’ In between this he has bouts of pain, so chronic,
that he becomes distressed like a toddler, because her can’t understand why he
is in pain. And you're holding his had, and soothing his hair, and talking softly to him as he cries. And then like a toddler it stops, and he switches back to what he was doing before it hit him. Add on top of this, moments when he is my
Dad and your brain doesn't know what to do. I know its him, because he tells me to piss off. Or
swears at Mum
I am so numb. So beyond this, that I don’t know what to do.
I am sure my mother is expecting me to do something. Be a specific way. She
asked me last night in what felt like a very loaded questions. ‘So what do you
think of Keith then. (Notice Keith, not Dad)’ I just said. That’s not my Dad.
That’s not my Dad sat in that hospital bed. And she just looked at me. I
thought she was going to start crying again.This is going to sound awful. But there is nothing in me that wants to
help shore her up. For the last 3 months, I’ve been her personal verbal
punching bag. OH you don’t need to explain to me why. I get it. She is at the
coal face. Whereas I have been in Scotland. Honouring the Promise, (I might
add) that Dad made me make. Which was to live my life. Because as he is clearly
demonstrating. We only get one shot.I
love my Mother. I do. But I find that she is my mother less and less. And it
feels more like I am related to someone who just holds a quiet air of disappointment
in me. Not only is my Father dying. But I think I lost my Mum along the way too.
Now. This is not a pity party. This is more a meandering
through thoughts to try and untangle this mess that its gotten itself into. I
cannot fathom, where or when I got it wrong. To the point where I am no longer
asked ‘how are you coping’ but more, ‘Katie its terrible to watch my husband
dying’. We’ve forgotten, that it’s my Dad lying there being munched slowly from
the inside out. She dislikes that I chose my life over hers. She dislikes, that
I’m Gay. (I pointed out Loving someone and accepting them are two different
things.......) I think, because she has always tried to live her life
vicariously through me, that this time, I’ve chosen a life that is very very
right for me, but not so much for her. She feels I am leaving her behind, that
I am/have abandoned her, and left her to the wilderness.
I’ve not. If, like my brother a few years ago, I had upped
Sticks and moved to Thailand, then yes, I could understand it. However I am in
Scotland............
I’m there. On the end of the phone. (The same as when I was
in Swindon) And my Brother, who lives in London, is for once, having to pick up
the slack. Because I can’t. But it’s not seen as, Oh that’s nice, that Paul is
helping out. It’s more a ‘Paul is driving down EVERY weekend to see Dad. Paul
came down, Paul isn’t coping well but he still comes down.......’ I think even
a blind man could read in between the lines. The thing is, I’ve sorted the
practical stuff out. I re-wrote, both of their wills. I sat with Dad and made
his funeral arrangements, because Mum couldn’t do it. I rang lifeline for them,
and called the Council to arrange for a social care package. I called MacMillan
and sorted out information and people to call Mum. I called friends of Dad and
asked them to call him. I called my brother and told him to get his arse down
South to see Dad. Heck I even roped in the Ex-Husband to go down and see Dad
But you can hear it in her voice, that this isn’t enough.
That I should have dropped everything and moved back home to be there for her.
Not my Dad. Don’t get this wrong. But to be there for her. I’ve failed her. And
I cannot fathom what I could have done differently.I know she is broken hearted that her husband
is dying. But the martyrdom is too much and too far. It’s as if the last 35yrs
of their marriage has been turned from one that nearly broke my Mum into a
fairytale. That they have been skipping through the decades on the same page, completely
besotted with each other. In reality, my parents fought all the time. Dad
saying absolutely horrible things to her. And Mum fighting back. I’ve always
always been the one in my mum’s camp. Because I’ve heard the things he has said
to her. But I am starting to wonder if they have now been taken out of context.
Because I appear to be getting to full brunt of something, that I didn’t know
was there, and I’ve a feeling that my Dad tempered my Mum......... And now that
shelter that I had, is sitting in a hospital bed, barely able to tell me what
day of the week it is.
Being an Aspie. (Aspergers) I have a tendency to
compartmentalise things. Which often gets interpreted as stand offish, or not
caring. Whereas there is a lot going on underneath the surface. Just because
you can’t see it, doesn’t mean that this its hurting any less.
I’m aware I’m rambling. I miss my Dad. And it’s even worse
because he is not dead. He is still
here. And I miss him, so much, that there is this terrible ache. And I feel Oh
so small. So alone, and so cast aside. I want nothing more than to clamber up
onto his lap, and curl up there, safe and warm and protected from the world as
I did as a child. To inhale the scent of Erimore Mixture and Mints. To hear him
call me pickle, and laugh because I said the F-Word. To look at his face and
see acceptance there. To hear him say, I love you.
And like a small frightened child, I am over whelmed with
this basic, inherent reaction.....
I want my Dad. I want my Dad. I want my Dad...............
FormerMember
Oh darling my heart aches for you it really does. All I can think of is to tell you to sit down with your Mam in a quiet place and tell her your thoughts as you have write them down here, no matter how painful it might be.
Of course she is feeling lost and alone but so are you. She needs to understand that her husband of 35 years has played another role. He has been your Father, your Daddy, your Dad for ALL of your life! You must also make her understand that you are not abandoning her by living in another part of the UK but that you are living your life as fate intended you to live it and because your Father told you to do so.
I think perhaps you should leave out the description of their past relationship and the arguments and the name calling. Some relationships seem to thrive on this sort of behaviour and I doubt that your parents would have stayed together as long as they have if indeed there hadn't been a foundation of love underneath it all. And as for your Mother forgetting all the bad times - that's what people do when they see someone they love preparing to leave this mortal coil. I think it's something of a comfort to forget the bad and remember the good.
I hope that your Father gets the care and attention he needs from the medical staff. There is absolutely no reason for him to be in pain at this stage of his illness. The medical staff need to ensure that he is comfortable at all times and not in distress.
My thoughts and prayers are with you, your Father and your family because whether you like them or not at the moment I think you probably still love them underneath it all.
My father didn't have cancer, but he did have a stroke that, overnight, turned him from a high-powered and, to be truthful, somewhat ruthless businessman into a toddler. We weren't close but, even so, it was a dreadful thing to live through - for everyone. What you're having to go through must be so much worse.
*hugs* are really not enough, but sometimes they're all we have.
Aw darling I'm sorry, how very sad for you. Please try and take a mental step away from your mum for the time being, you will need each other but now that relationship is hurting you. As for your dad, they say you start grieving before someone's passed with cancer and it seems very true. As long as you are holding his hand telling him you love him, his heart will reply to you, you're his little girl and he loves you sooo much. Part of him has now gone, but he is still with you and always will be. xxxx
You're having a really hard time just now, and nobody that's followed your story could doubt that you've done everything you could to 'be there' for your Mum and Dad. You are still allowed to have your own life and if your Mum seems to be trying to make you feel guilty about that, it's probably because she's already grieving and can see her old life ending and is feeling lost and lonely. She'll find it hard, but all you can do is your best. You do have yourself and your own life to think about too and you can't be responsible for your Mum. Just a shame that your efforts don't seem to get the recognition that your brothers' get, but it seems to be a daughter's lot to be held to a higher standard and be found wanting.
It must be so hard to watch someone you love deteriorate in that way. My Mum did become a bit confused as she deteriorated, but nothing like what you've experienced with your Dad. I just remember her at one point thinking that my 2 oldest daughters were me and my sister (an age gap of more than 25 years then!).
I lost my dad to cancer 14 years ago and my mum almost 19 years ago. It took me a while to find them again after they died, but they've never really left me since. Without warning sometimes, when I'm coping with something, I suddently know what one or the other would say or do in that situation and it's as if they're with me. When I have a good 'family' day with my girls, it feels like they're there and can see us. I'm no new-ager, or born-again anything, but I do think that there is still a connection, even if it's one that scientists would explain away as something to do with how we store memories. All I know is it's brought me a lot of comfort, especially as my relationship with my parents when they were alive, just like most people's, had low points as well as high points.
If wishes worked, I'm sure you know what we would all wish for you, but instead I'll simply say that I'm thinking of you and I hope you you get all the strength and support you need to get through this difficult time. You dad won't really leave you, he's in your heart and always will be.
I really feel for you. My dad has been in hospital for 8 weeks now, with what doctors thought was a delerium, but which they now consider to be cancer cells inflaming his meninges. He is not my dad any more, but a scared, agitated, restless, incontinent "cyborg" who thinks my sister is a brainless fly, and that there is a Serbian bomb-making factory in the toilet. He is now violent, having turned the fire extinguisher on people and smashed a computer. All this with a fracture of the hip, that his GP had said was a torn muscle, but which turned out to be advanced metastatic cancer of the spine and hip. I'm in Australia so am as helpful as a chocolate teapot. My poor sister has been dealing with this- hard for her as he tells her to go away and wants only my brother, whom he regards as successful and a man of action. I don't even exist to him any more. Yesterday they said the dementia is permanent and that it will kill him before the cancer does. (((hugs)))
