Marianne Talbot with her mother ‘Go away,’ mum hissed ‘I just want to die’.
All I was doing was trying to get her to go back upstairs to get dressed.
Mum has been uncharacteristically manipulative lately. She has started to claim that she wants to die fairly frequently. It is clearly a sign of her being unhappy, but is it really a sign that she wants to die? I don’t think so. I think that what she wants is for life to go back to normal.
She wants to be able to communicate, for example. At the moment whenever she tries to say something it comes out all wrong. The only clue to her meaning is the context, and often that is not enough.
She also wants to be able to enjoy her food. But when she tries to eat she misses her mouth. Or she crams so much in that she’s in danger of choking.
She also wants to be alone with me, knowing where she is and why. But there’s no way I can cope on my own any more. So instead of our nice cosy routine, the house is always full of people coming and going.
It must be a nightmare for her.
So much so in fact that I am beginning to think that she is no longer benefiting from living with me. This feeling became so strong last week that I actually went to see a home that someone recommended.
I wasn’t expecting much. But I liked it. The rooms were nice and light. There was a conservatory in which a group of ladies were sitting ‘talking’ to some carers. There was a large television on the wall. It was switched off. Good.
Even better they said they would be prepared for mum to come to lunch for a few times to see how she managed. I shall certainly take them up on that.
But I find myself longing for her to die. If only I could go into her room one morning to find that she had died peacefully in her sleep. It would feel so right for her to die whilst she’s still living with me, and before this deterioration gets worse.
Already she is becoming a different person. Occasionally I can still see mum, but mostly mum has been replaced by this bad-tempered, manipulative old woman who spends her life complaining, and expecting me to run after her.
The other day after several hours of fetching her this and that, finding her stuff to do, and trying to get her interested in something, I found that she was using a handful of my bulbs as a bookmark.
I really hated her at that moment.