My parents' home in Walnut Creek was my safe haven. Since August 21, 1972.
On January 11, 2004, my mother forgot all about my father's 80th birthday dinner the night before.
For the next fourteen years, dementia slowly took her life. But thank God, she always remember who I was.
The last eight years of her life were difficult. I go to work. I go visit her after work. Often cook, clean and eventually bathing and clothing her. Then go home tired and worn out. Rinse, repeat. Many times I had to deal with accidents.
In 2018, my father deteriorated fast and passed after eleven days without eating and drinking. My mother passed eight days later. She was in a different bedroom and sensed when he passed.
The siblings and I are finally selling the parent's house. I am sad to see it go but relieved to let it go. So many memories of good and bad.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Life is short. So short. Some day you and I will be reunited with our loved ones. Until then I sincerely wish you health and happiness.
Edit: Apologies to all for the semi-thread jack. Triggered by ST's post but in a good way. Memories...
