As I typed these journal entries of Mom's I remember this period for our family. I remember Mom being gone for so long; in the hospital for weeks and months at a time. I can remember being afraid of getting the phone call that Mom had died. During this period, 1979, I was 14 years old. I was a freshman at Atherton High School. I had friends that kept me busy and kept my mind from thinking about Mom being so sick. If only others had known what was always looming in the back of my mind during my teen years. For years we went through family and individual counseling. It was a tough time for our family. But here we are, 30+ years later and Mom is still here. Although, somehow, I almost think it would have been better for her had she not survived to have to endure dementia. I would never give up having her here to see Camille and me grow to adulthood and to know her grandchildren. But I wonder why she would ever have to have this terrible diagnosis after everything else she has overcome. She fought for so many years to see these events, to have these memories and now she is having them all taken away. Why, why, why???
As I typed these entries from 1979 I can’t help but feel so sad for my Dad who had to take on the full-time job of raising two teen girls, work a full-time job, and take care of a very ill wife. I cannot imagine the sadness, the fear, and the stress he must have felt.
As I typed these entries from 1979 I can’t help but feel so sad for my Dad who had to take on the full-time job of raising two teen girls, work a full-time job, and take care of a very ill wife. I cannot imagine the sadness, the fear, and the stress he must have felt.
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