Dad called me on the morning of June 3 with some worries about Mom. Some things are too personal to type in my blog and to keep my mothers dignity in tact I won't mention them here. One disturbing thing my dad mentioned was that in the middle of the night he woke up hearing my mom calling for help from their living room. When Dad found her she was standing there with no idea where she was. She had been in the kitchen earlier trying to make something with blueberries and had juice and other food strewn all over the kitchen counters... a huge mess.
My poor father is her primary care giver and while my sister and I help out as much as we can, he is the one to bear the burden. Camille and I see him slipping deeper into depression and we don't know what to do.
My poor father is her primary care giver and while my sister and I help out as much as we can, he is the one to bear the burden. Camille and I see him slipping deeper into depression and we don't know what to do.
Comments