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“We’repreventingher from getting hurt by doing this. Back when she was diagnosed, she said it was up to us to decide when the time was right to turn over her care to the professionals. She knows it’s coming.”
I scoff, bitterness coating my tone. “Sure, she knows when she’s lucid, but those moments are fleeting.”
I’ve slept over each night since her incident.And man, she’s deteriorated more than I realized. I’ve been fooling myself into thinking it was safe for her to be home alone.
She’s so much worse at night. The doctors call it sundowning.
It’s scary and heartbreaking.
During the day when I’m not there, Gloria sits with her for hours on end. She’s a damn saint. They do crafts, cook together, and take short walks around the neighborhood.
When she heard about Ma’s wandering incident, she felt so bad for not being there. Despite it not being her fault, I suspect the extra time she’s spending is easing her guilt. But we can’t go on like this for long. I won’t take advantage of her compassion.
I knew Ma was getting worse. Only, since I was breezing in and out, I didn’t realize how quickly the disease was progressing.
Until now.
For the last few years, she’s been losing words, having trouble remembering dates, mixing up names, and forgetting conversations we just had. She started asking more and more questions about things she should have known.
But now? I see changes daily.
In the middle of a sentence, she’s gone completely. Just shuts down like a plug was pulled. Then she pops back a few moments later, disoriented but otherwise okay.
Here one moment and gone the next.
This morning, she asked about my tattoos, lifting up the sleeve of my shirt like she was seeing them for the first time. And I’ve had most of them for almost a decade. A few years ago, when I got the angel wings over my heart for Dad, she made me take her to the tattoo studio so she could thank the artist who drew it. She brought him a pie.
And today? She had no memory of any of it.
Caroline breaks me from my looming spiral. “That’s why it’s time to act. It’ll be less traumatic to put her in a home now while she can still remember the reasons behind the move. She’ll have time to get comfortable there before she slips further into the end stage. She knows we aren’t abandoning her and that it’s for her own good.”
My heart plummets, leaving my chest a hollow cavern.
“That’s the thing, sis. Weareabandoning her if we do this. She’d never ship us off like that.” My palm aches from my tight grip on my phone. “I won’t put her in a home.”
My sister’s frustrated sigh makes the phone line crackle. “Cal, let’s look at the options. To avoid putting her in a facility, we have three options, right? She moves in with me up here, moves into your tiny condo with you, or you move in with her. The first is out because I have three kids, a husband, and a demanding full-time job. You know I adore our mother with my whole heart, but I don’t have the bandwidth to care for her the way she needs. I’m already spread too thin. She’d barely be any safer here than living on her own.”
“I know you can’t do it, given your situation. That’s whyI’lltake care of her.”
“That’s not much better, and you know it. Let’s say you sell your condo, which I know you’ll do. You still can’t care for her twenty-four hours a day. Last time I checked, you’re one man, and she can’t be left alone. Especially at the rate she’s declining. What about when you’re at work? I know she has days when sheseemsfine other than some memory issues, and you’re clinging to those, but it’s getting worse. And fast.”
She pauses, allowing her words to sink in.
I hate this. Make it stop.
“You know we can’t afford to have a full-time caregiver come to the house. Thirty dollars an hour was the cheapest I could find. Do that math for a minute and see if you don’t want to vomit.”
“Oh, I’ve already done the math, and yes, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
Fifteen hundred dollars a week for the fifty hours of care I’d need— and that’s if I don’t work late or need to go in on a day off.
Fifteen damn hundred dollars.
Not per month.Every damn week.
Caroline continues, “By using the proceeds from the sale of your condo to fund daily care, you’d still run out of cash in about six months. Maybe a few more months if we factor in Dad’s pension. I can only chip in so much. Then what will we do?”
Thisis why I’ve been avoiding it. Because there are no good solutions.
