Today was tough. I can analyze. I can observe. I can report. But there is no escaping the emotional wrings that come, some days--some moments--more intense than seem bearable. This morning was that kind of emotional wrench.
I walked into my mom's room just as I do every morning and said: Good Morning, Mom! Ready for a new day?
I got no response; not even a look. I finally got her attention and then had to force her to get up and get dressed. She was barely walking. I practically carried her into the bathroom. She didn't want to get undressed (that's typical). She was constipated and needed assistance with that. By the time I got her back in her chair ready for breakfast, tears were rolling down my cheeks and the banner of thought scrolling through my mind was: Where is my Mother? Why is she like This?
(And in the background was my three year old pulling on me, demanding to be played with.)
There are days when I have to ask "How long can I do this?"
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