I went to find mom some new shirts that could easily fit over her head. We moved a minimal wardrobe with her to the new community back in January, and now find we need some options because what she has hurts to pull over the large lump on her forehead. She got frustrated by the buttons, so we didn’t move many of the blouses and need some options.

I was very excited to find some cotton pullovers with boatnecks that had pockets. My mom likes to have a place to keep her tissues, although up the sleeve is still a popular option. When I’m checking out somehow I come to tell the woman the purchase is for my mom. I didn’t give any more details but she responds with “Love her while she’s here, the loss of your mom will just rattle your bones.”

I want to tell her I know it will, but I also know she did not want to live like this. I still tear up more often than I would have guessed I would over the loss of my dad – and that was a year and a half ago.

Thanks to those of you that commented and sent me notes. It’s encouraging to know that I’m not alone in my thoughts and frustrations and that many have made this journey and survived.

I want to share what Susan, author of My Alzheimer’s Journey, shared with me. She wrote a daughter’s prayer to god last May. So many of her thoughts resounded within me. Thank you Susan.

dear god
please take
my mother
now and
never

I can’t bear to see her
suffer anymore
nor can I bear
to see her go

mothers and daughters
are sometimes
swallowed up
by life god

we push
and pull
and try
to find
our way
to détente

but sometimes god
disease finds
us first and
renders us
unaware

it steals the
things we
hold dear:
thoughts
words
actions
deeds
dignity

what happened
to dignity god?

is it stuffed in your
back pocket
like a forgotten note
with a grocery list
or phone number
scribbled
on it?

go away god
if you can’t
keep track
of the notes
in your pockets

no! wait god!
come back!
i didn’t mean it
i made a mistake

take her now god
all these bits and pieces
and fragments of your daughter
who was once my mother

pluck her quick
from her drug-induced trance
breathe her back to life
on the other side

let her sing and dance
with the angels
instead of
with
me

free her spirit fast god
from the tangled mind
and weakening body
that imprison her

then again, bide your time
a sedated slumber
is better than a
final resting place
where I can’t
see her face
or hold
her hand
as she
sleeps

how can her life
end as mine began
with dirty diapers
tentative steps
gurgles
drooling and trying to find
unknown words?

don’t take her now god
I will miss her
too much when
she goes

leave her
hand in mine
we can shuffle
a little further
on hell’s road
to heaven

we can play a duet
or two

I can read her stories
touch her hair
watch over her
as she did me
when I was
her baby
and she
was not
mine

let her stay
with me
a while longer
before you
take her home
where she longs to go

and when you take her god
don’t take everything

leave a piece
of her within reach
to accompany me
as I have
her

take her now god
but don’t take
her ever
I will
miss
her
so

Appreciated.