ABOUT THE ADULT-PARENTS SUPPORT GROUP

GRIEF SUPPORT GROUP FOR ADULT CHILDREN WHO HAVE LOST PARENTS
AND FOR THOSE WHOSE PARENTS ARE DYING. ALSO FOR ADULT CHILDREN WHO HAVE PARENTS IN PERSISTENT VEGETATIVE STATES.
This group provides a therapeutic environment
via the Internet for grieving people to speak about
the loss of their parent or parents.
TO SUBSCRIBE SEE BELOW
Register and join list. Subscribe to regular version, (each message mailed individually), or digest version, (all messages compiled and sent in one mailing).
One of my web pages and where to contact me about this group below:
https://www.angelfire.com/ny3/emilierose/
Grief-adult-parents-owner@onelist.com

The purpose of this page is to tell you about the new support group called Grief-adult-parents.

At Grief-adult-parents we receive letters from others in the same situation we find ourselves, and share with each other our grief and difficulties coping with the loss of a much loved parent. In this way, we help each other through these difficult times. We have the option to receive the letters either one by one as they come in, or daily in a compiled digest form.

We are a group of people who either have parents who have died or are ill and in the process of dying.

There are not sufficient resources for those of us who mourn parents. Although many websites exist for people who have lost children or spouses, it appears that adults are somehow expected not to fall apart when a parent becomes terminally ill or dies.

Well, we do fall apart. Oftentimes our parents were the rock who sustained us through life. As we lived our adulthood, it was our parents who we turned to for advice and friendship.

When a person grows to adulthood and ceases to require a mommy or daddy to teach them the ropes, sort of speak, our parents become our best friends and chief supporters.

This list is also for those whose parents may not have always been close to their children. These children also grieve and often feel guilty, feeling that if it were not for this or that, the relationship with their parents would have been better.

For all those interested in a list such as this, we all say welcome. You are definitely wanted here and on this list, people will listen to you with sympathy and empathy, will offer advice on their coping strategies or lack of, and here you will find a non-judgmental atmosphere. This is a list where you can vent your frustrations and feelings of personal loss and emptiness.

Up until my mother was 79 years old she was in good health. After 79 she got macular degeneration of the eyes which did not respond to laser treatments. She became blind but was plucky and managed to still enjoy life. I got her audio books from the Lighthouse and she would call car service to take her to the mall where she loved to listen to people conversing at the food pavilions.

As time went on osteoporosis began eating away at the vertebrae in her spine which caused continual fractures. She would be in great pain and unable to move.

My mother lived in the downstairs apartment of my house and I was her primary caregiver. Eventually my mom began having TIA's, small strokes which impaired her ability to think sequentially. I fought all of this, feeling that if I could keep my mother interested in life, she would never "lose it".

By 1995 my mother's blindness and difficulty walking impaired her safety to herself. Every time there was a noise from the downstairs apartment I became terrified. Once my mother almost put herself on fire lighting the gas range to boil water. I insisted she have full time live in help. I hired immigrants without green cards because that was all I could afford. I taught them English and how to care for my mom. This way I knew my mother would not be alone when I was not home.

My mother also had vaso-vagal stimulation if she ate too much, and would "die"--keel over, and her pulse would stop. She would then spontaneously revive. I always lived in fear. Every time the phone rang I was sure something bad had once again happened to my mom.

In May of 1998, my mother had a large stroke. She was unconscious but revived while the paramedics were in the house. She was put in the hospital and for awhile there, I thought she would be all right. The doctors wanted to know what I "wanted to do with her." I told them I would take my mom home. However, once home, my mom probably had more TIA's and soon could not be moved without the necessity of a 2 person transfer. She was very upset when she became incontinent. She could not stand the new foreign woman I had to care for her.

My son works for a good nursing home here on Staten Island, and despite my hopes of never wanting to put my mom in a nursing home, I knew if I did not do it this nursing home would not have a bed the next time my mom went to the hospital.

After my mom went to the nursing home, (which by the way, she liked enormously when she first got there), another TIA made food taste like poison to her. I brought food from home thinking that the nursing home food was not to her liking. However, my mom still thought even my food tasted like poison so I knew that her taste buds had been altered by the strokes. She then stopped eating completely and sank into a coma.

I had signed a DNR, but had never anticipated that my mother would stop eating. Thin as my mother always was, she had liked a wide variety of foods. Blind people do not have many enjoyments and food had been one of the things she could enjoy whether sighted or blind.

My mother, who by the way, is now 95, comes from an era when people did not speak about their wishes should others have to ever make decisions for them. I never felt comfortable to ask her what she wanted. I know she would have thought I was insulting her had I asked.

Not knowing what to do when my mom stopped eating and went into the coma, I hoped that she would once again revive if I allowed them to insert a tube into her stomach for ongoing gastrostomy feedings. By this time I felt that my mom was in G-d's hands, so I did not worry about the procedure, did not worry if she would live or die. She was, at this point, so very far from the mother who had been my best friend and companion for my whole life. My mom came through the tubal insertion with flying colors but she did not ever really come out of the coma.

Once in a great while, perhaps every 3 months, my mom can answer yes or no to things I will ask. Most of the time she is mute, lying in the nursing home bed, so well cared for that she has not one bedsore after 15 months in the nursing home. Her body is contracted, but on the few occasions that she is alert, her yes and/or no answers are appropriate. She does not have Alzheimer's.

I have let her know that it is ok to go to Heaven. I have told her I will be fine if she wants to go. (whether I will or not remains to be seen, but I have told her she should not worry about me). On those occasions that she is alert, she has indicated to me in no uncertain terms, that she wants to stay alive.

The problem is that I do not feel that what my mother considers to be life, is life. However, I am not in control here. I go to visit my mom. I have cut my visits down to three times a week because it is so very difficult to keep talking when there are no answers. My life is not that interesting to sustain a one way conversation any great length of time. I cry often when I visit her. Other times I manage to be strong and I sing her songs or tell her stories. On August 7 of this year I sang her "Happy Birthday" for year 95. It is so ridiculous because she was already in the coma or semi-coma for year 94.

When people ask me if my mom is still alive, I really don't know what to say. I know her body is here. Most of the time I wonder where she really is.

When I come home from my visit to my mom, I switch into my happy mode because my husband does not want to see me unhappy. I cannot talk about this to my married sons as they more or less act as if their grandmother is already in her grave. They do not visit often. Sometimes my husband will drive me to see my mom, (when I am not doing it alone), but he will never come up because he "doesn't want to see her that way".

I have no siblings and nobody to talk to about this ongoing situation. My "act" for my family is so good that most of the time I believe it myself. I can go out and have a good time and then often become guilty that I am enjoying myself when my mother is lying inert on a bed at Carmel Richmond. Then again, I know my mother would not expect me to lie down in the bed next to her just because she is in this condition.

Outside of this debilitating stroke that felled her last year, my mother appears to be in good health. I am frightened she will live on for years, blind and unable to communicate. I don't know what kind of hell my mother is going through. She cannot tell me and if she could, I still would be unable to help her. It is unbearable to watch.

Despite her great age, a mother is still a mother. She was my best friend and I am so worn down by these past 10 plus years that I cannot even remember what was so special about our relationship. Yet I know it was an extremely special relationship. We were very close. Up until the day my mother could not speak any longer, I phoned her every morning while I had my coffee. Her life was centered around my happiness. When I was worried she would be the one to assure me that everything would be ok. When I went through a divorce from my first husband she helped me financially to get on my feet. She helped me raise my children. We went out together. I enjoyed my mom's company better than that of any friend in my age group. Whether I was right or wrong about something, in my mother's eyes, I was always right. To my mom, I could do no wrong. She would tell her doctors, "ask Emilie, whatever Emilie thinks is right to do is the right thing."

My mother is the strongest woman I know. She taught me how to survive and that we all do survive everything that happens to us in life. She was a sexually abused child. For years, she was continually raped by her father. She grew up in a day and age when you did not go on Oprah and state that your childhood experiences caused you to screw up your life. My mother is from a time when you simply got on with things and made a decent life for yourself despite all odds.

Somebody in this group wrote that nobody, not her husband or children would ever be the same as having her mother love her. I feel the same way. Nobody will ever love me as my mom loved me. Perhaps I do not love anybody as well as I loved my mother.

With my family acting as if she was already really dead, and my visiting her inert body at Carmel, I feel I have no closure. It is as if she died but did not. I don't know where she is, (her soul, my real mom). I don't know if I walk around numb. I do walk around disconnected, trying to live my life and yet trying not to behave as if my mom was already gone.

I don't know if I shall grieve when my mother's body actually dies or will "toast" to her entering Heaven. I do know that when she dies, I won't ever be able to hug her again.

Update:-----Saturday, February 17, 2001-- This afternoon my beloved mother passed away. Hopefully she no longer lives between worlds, but is in Paradise with all those who love her so very much. I shall miss you dreadfully Mom but shall not miss the life you have had these past few years. I pray your suffering is over and that you are now happy with the Angels in Heaven

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