In the meantime ...

Mom continues to decline. She weighs less than 100 pounds, down about 10 pounds from when she was admitted to this latest facility in March. Staff is doing everything they possibly can to make Mom eat, but she is just not interested.
This also is part of the last stages of Alzheimer's. The Alzheimer's victim can't tell you if they're hungry because they no longer recognize the feeling of hunger. Sometimes, they even forget how to swallow. But eventually, if something else doesn't happen to their bodies, they starve to death. And that's what is happening to Mom. Her body is shutting down. The nurses tell me she would rather feed her stuffed animal that she constantly carries than eat herself.
I can't stand to see her like this. Although I have been battling a wicked flu bug, I haven't seen Mom in almost a month. And I'm not sure I want to. I don't want to spend the rest of my life remembering Mom like she is now. I want to remember her with a big smile on her face, outside in the sun snipping roses and bitching about the thorns while at the same time taking deep whiffs of the roses' scents. I want to remember her dancing in the kitchen when she thought something was funny. I want to remember her carving our Thanksgiving turkey and proudly taking it to the table where candlelight glimmered against our good china. I want to cherish and keep all those memories close to my heart.
Not the memory of some old woman I don't know who spends all her time in a wheelchair and doesn't know who I am. My last memory of my Grandma Dora, Mom's mother, is in a hospital bed in a nursing home saying she peed her pants. She didn't know Mom or me and then she died. I don't want that memory to be my last one of Mom. It's bad enough to remember Mom being wheeled out of the house and into an ambulance on a dark, stormy night. It's bad enough seeing her in a nursing home. I call and talk to nurses about how Mom is doing, and they call me if something happens. For now, that's good enough.
Surprisingly, Martha visits Mom more often than she ever has. I don't understand why, but at least she's stepping up to the plate.
Not only do I have to deal with Mom, I have to deal with running out of money. I am still not employed and my farm income is just about gone. I know God has a plan - I just wish He'd let me in on it! I feel like I'm treading water and have no real direction.
And I pray daily that God takes Mom in her sleep, that He comes into her room, cradles her in His Arms, and takes her Home. I pray this not for myself, but because I know Mom would be happier.