Declining day by day

I usually don't cry at every little thing Mom does or doesn't do, but today I cried.

Mom has declined to the point of not being able to comprehend how to make her oatmeal or toast, her breakfast that she has every day and has for countless years. So when she gets up every morning, I get her oatmeal ready and put it on the stove and put two pieces of bread in the toaster for her. I get her dishes and silverware out and put them exactly where she needs them and then I must supervise when she gets into the kitchen to get her breakfast. I must tell her to turn the stove on, not too high and tell her to put the bread down in the toaster and when to butter it. After her oatmeal is cooked, I must direct her to put it in her bowl, put some sugar on it and get her milk. I put her medications out in plain sight of her meal and then she is finally ready to sit down to eat. And before she gets done with her meal, I must ask her to take her pills. Every morning is the same routine.

However, this morning was a bit different. I prepared everything except putting the bread in the toaster. Then I went into my bedroom to do some last minute Christmas shopping on the computer. I heard her in the kitchen and then she came into the bedroom. I asked her if she had turned on the stove for the oatmeal and she had. I then told her that she needed to get some bread out and put it in the toaster and toast it. She said OK and returned to the kitchen.

I wasn't in the bedroom but about 20 minutes and when I got into the kitchen, I just couldn't believe it. There sat Mom with her oatmeal sure enough, but she had one piece of plain, UNtoasted bread sitting on a napkin with butter on it and a few bites taken out of it. The second piece of bread was on a plate, untoasted and smeared with oatmeal. I asked why she did that and she said she didn't know.

Then I began to cry. Mom got concerned and asked why I was crying and I just told her I was tired.

How could I tell her that I HATE seeing her like this. That I hate seeing her get worse almost every day. That I hate what this damned disease is doing to her. That I want to yell at God for letting my Mom get this horrible disease.

So folded laundry and tried to take my mind off it. I am really trying to quit trying to understand why Mom does what she does and how her mind is working now. It's a waste of time to try to understand and I don't think I'm supposed to understand. But sometimes, it's so difficult to cope with this. And it's like this every day, every single day.

And I continue to pray that God cradles Mom in His Arms and takes her home soon. Please God, hear my prayer.