In general I do not consider myself fun. I value peace and quiet over adrenaline and noise. I am on occasion known to let loose and have fun especially with kids.
I admit. When I was younger, I loved prank calls. I loved calling people and saying things like “is your refrigerator running? You better go catch it.” And other lame stuff like that. I think that is so fun and so acceptable and can only harm someone with limited calling minutes. One thing that I do not find funny are horror movie phone calls.
Tonight I received three private number calls but by the fourth one I just wanted to be left alone so I answered. What I heard. “Xochitl, you will die in seven nights.” I ask you this. How is that funny. How do you find joy in threatening someone’s life. It is not okay to make a death threats even as a joke.
Besides the fact that it is a horrific idea and someone truly stupid had to have made that call. That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part is. They know me. I know them. They purposely blocked their number. Someone I know and love did this to me. They made a long and rough day even more stressful. They ruined my only evening off by playing this joke. They obviously do not care about me. They are selfish and honestly a despicable human being.
I am going to bed tonight with tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart because someone went to far. Never go to far because you can’t take it back.
There is a piece of my heart missing. I left it behind. I left it with the one person that I cherish the most. My brother.
I went on a two week vacation to visit my family. I stayed with my sister for the majority of it because my neice is two and I had never gotten to meet her so I wanted to be with her as long as possible. I love my sister and her huge family but my brother is always number one. When I said goodbye to her, I was sad but not brokenhearted. However, the meer thought of saying goodbye to my brother brought me to tears. I went to his house and was able to hold the tears in and enjoy breakfast he cooked. He walked me outside and hugged me and I feel apart. I sobbed in his arms for so long while he whispered nice things to me. It did not help. I sobbed harder. I couldn’t let him go. I did not want to leave. He told me that he was proud of me, that I was always on his mind and that I would always have a home with him. He wiped my tears away and promised one day we would live closer. I didn’t stop crying. I got into my car and cried while driving. Even now as I wrote this I cry. I live 10.driving hours away from the only person I ever felt love from. Ten hours away from the man who would bend over backwards for me. My one supportive family member is far away. He knows my living situation and it kills him. I know his rough life and it kills me. I left a piece of myself with him. My brother saved my life. He made sure I survived and now I am too far away to show him every day how grateful I am.
I watched her grab a nail file and rub it on her face, her efforts to remove a mark on her face that was bothering her because she was constantly picking at it. (She wasn’t in harms way, I had a very close eye on her) She also brushed her face in attempts to groom herself in some manner which I did not understand. She searched and searched and opened drawers and just looked at everything and searched for something. I finally asked her what she needed. It was a toothbrush, a toothbrush that was directly in front of her. I gave it to her and she went to work again, brushing her teeth. She started again with the searching. She found a tube of lipstick but decided it wasn’t for her. She found lip gloss and applied it to her lips. Not once did she ask for help. Her mind no longer understands what a quarter sleeve is which she proves by anxiously pulling at her sleeves in an attempt to elongate them. Her confusion is constant, when I watch her I do not understand and I realize neither does she. Her world is deteriorating every day.
All I can do is watch. I try not to hover. She does not deserve to be limited by my worries. She deserves a chance to try her hand at tasks. I help her after she has a chance to try. I cry with her, I cry for her. I feel her pain but I can not help. I can only stand to the side and watch her take this journey. A journey that does not end with life but with death. Her mind will leave and so will she.
Dementia destroys something I can not heal. I am only a caregiver.