The more difficult mom becomes to care for and manage daily, the deeper my sadness grows and I find myself wanting to curl up in a ball and weep.  Underneath a blanket so no one hears me and no one knows that I weep.

Yesterday Sheri told me I have begun the grieving process.  The relationship I always wanted with mum will never be actualized as I watcher her body fail and her mind sink further into dementia.  There are more more "bad"days.   Days that her eyes do not focus, she only mutter, she aimlessly rolls her chair around, she refuses nourishment, to get out of bed and to even transfer.  Then there is the occasional bright day.  Those days are days I begin to long for but they are interrupted by the mind and taken away abruptly or slowly through the afternoon.

Steve opened up some yesterday as I called him and told him what Sheri had said.  He too has a hole deep inside of him from a father who could not communicate and a mother who was emotionally absent.  Like me he has filled it with things that are not good and only rob us of our joy . . . .  he wishes to speak more freely about these things.  I just hope it is not too late to help him before he turns in the mess I have become.

Maybe in discovering together, we can work our way out of the shame and quilt.