A few weeks ago my mother passed away. Dealing with the loss has been hard. Talking to other people who have lost their mothers helps, since I know they know what I am going through. However, my situation is different from many others in that my mother had actually been gone for about ten years. I lost my mother, as I knew her, to Alzheimer’s.
Over the years I have shed so, so many tears. I’ve grieved for all the losses – my actual “Mom” that I miss so dearly, the grandchildren she never really knew, the grandchildren she did know who have experienced her agonizing decline, the plans she and my father had for his retirement years.
Because I had already gone through this heartbreaking process, I felt that when her time came to leave this life, it wouldn’t be as painful as it might have been without the Alheimer’s. I was wrong. It was still a punch in the gut. A very final end. Gone is the tiny hope that a cure might be found during her lifetime or that at some point, Hollywood-style, she would suddenly have a lucid moment where she could talk.
It’s been a double whammy.