What a powerful and poignant story, Ilona. Loosing our parents is such a profound process, and your particular story has so many layers of added emotional complexity. This process is rarely talked about and I admire your willingness to share, because it can make those of us who have gone through similar experiences feel less alone.
Thanks for your uplifting comment. I do struggle with sharing, but then I think why keep it a secret? It happened and it maybe it won't make someone feel as alone, as you say. Also, I waited until both my parents passed away before telling the story. I do feel a sense of freedom with releasing it to the universe.
Heartbreaking in so many ways. It is true that much of what we do for our loved ones toward the end is essentially to comfort ourselves. A means to quell the guilt, I suppose. But those acts are still important and our intentions are pure. Thank you for sharing.
I appreciate your insight on this, Michelle. I did do it for myself, but I realize now how pointless it was. My former mother would have liked to look coiffed and put together, but this wasn't the same mom. Thanks for reading !
I have five brothers and sisters, and after helping my 90-something father care for my mother toward the end, I finally begged them to step in (I lived next door, so it was natural I'd be "the one.") One sister stepped in and it wasn't pretty; I fled to NY for the winter to live in my husband's space. And immediately, Dad died, and Mom went into care. Just these past few days I've felt some regret that maybe I should have stayed here and cared for her, even though she didn't usually know who I was. And told myself that my job was and remains to care first for myself. And my husband. The hospice she was in was awesome, and we could visit there any time, and two of my sisters were there as Mother died, the three of us singing to her and reading poetry and holding her.
Ilona..so powerful. I lost both my parents very early (mom was 56, dad was 51) so didn't understand what it would be like until I married Tom and watched as his parents became more elderly. The staff at the assisted care center threatened to kick my MIL out many times because of her meanness to staff and she was abusive to my husband his entire life. It was hard, but not in the way you describe. I'm so sorry and think of you as a warrior.
That's a really nice thing to say, especially coming from you. You're the warrior! I am surprised that they didn't kick her out, but instead, they simply pointed out that it's part of the disease--that it wasn't really her. I think it was her (LOL) but I'm glad she eventually ran out of energy to do those things.
Oh my goodness, Ilona! What a horrifying experience that your father somehow injured your mother and, post-surgery, she never returned to "herself." And then he became the loving caregiver, which seems so improbable. You write about all this so beautifully that I felt I was going through it with you. You always seem to me to be so bright and healthy and energetic, and I truly had no idea you'd suffered through this. Thanks for sharing.
Ilona Goanos: My goodness, your family had constant hardships. You experienced agony and heartbreak early and continuously, which increases my admiration of your inner strength.
Nancy and I just checked in with the Hotel Barbarossahof after crossing the Atlantic all night, where, from the Frankfurter Flughafen we drove to Mehlingen-Kreis Kaiserslautern in the Rheinpfalz, my second homeland. Your email was the first in my Hotmail account.
Still, will be largely on „radio-silence“ during the two weeks, but yours was a compelling piece.
Powerful and beautiful writing! With no siblings it was all up to you. I can’t imagine your feelings seeing your dad handcuffed away, your mom seriously hurt. Thank you for sharing from your heart. It shows as you cared for her hair, clothes… just being there for her. I had three sibs…. We took turns. It was mine the day I sat with her as she yelled at the ceiling she was going to heaven, to see Bill, my dad. She recalled his name, knew what she wanted in those last hours. I held her hand as she passed, reuniting up there at last. Thank you for this, Ilona… it was healing to write, to lift a bit of heaviness. God bless you with peace. 🙏 🙏 Sending much love to you! 🫶❤️🤗
Thank you for sharing as well, Joan. I hope sharing made someone else feel less alone. I only feel that I can share because both of them have passed. The situation was a terrible one to be in, and there was no one else who could relate in a deep way.
This piece is so powerful. You've taken a deeply personal and painful experience and turned it into something that resonates with so many. Your vulnerability is a gift, and it reminds us that we're all connected through our shared human experience. It takes courage to share our stories, especially the difficult ones, but in doing so, we create space for healing and connection.
Thank you for your bravery and for reminding us that we're not alone.
Thank you for such a beautiful note. When we share stories, they don't have as much power over us. The added benefit, as you say, is we can help others to feel less alone by holding ourselves up to the light.
Dementia is such a thief. I can relate all too well with your story, an only child, depressive mother. My mother was also an alcoholic, and suffered from dementia in her later years. We end up with so many stories. Some are funny, others tragic. I used to joke that I was going to put an ad on Craigslist asking for a sibling to help care for an elderly parent. I never found the sibling, but my mother and I did settle into a final peace at the end of her life, which I'm grateful for. It's nice to find an outlet for our stories, and remind each other that we are all in this boat together. 💚
There are so many layers to my story, and you touched on a few of them in your thoughtful comment. She drank alcohol every day, and I didn't realize until recently that she and my dad were dependent on it. I'm glad you and your mom found a peace at the end. I did not, and I think that's why I still write about it.
That peace is still available to you through your writing, and I believe you will find it. That peace at the end of the day is actually your transformation, not your mother's. Keep writing! It not only helps you, but all those who read your work and can relate.
Ilona, I can’t help thinking that in some way, the efforts you made to help your mother “regain” herself were not in vain. Especially if they helped you in some small way it was well worth the window dressing. I’ve lost both my parents and I know how hard those last few months and sometimes years are.
Thanks for the reframe. Yes, doing those thing for my mom did help me feel better, like I was actually doing something instead of just watching the decline.
I know it’s hard for the person going thru the illness, but it’s got to be hard for the child especially in your case since it wasn’t an easy relationship to begin with.Thank you for sharing this - that can’t have been easy either!
Oh Ilona, how heart-breaking for you all, and yet heart-warming to hear how your father cared for your mother as long as he could despite it all. I see where you get your strength. Thank you for sharing!
Oh, sister. I’m honored to read this - your intimate sharing and I pray it was cathartic for you. I also think …. Hmmm … that maybe it belongs in a “recovery group for survivors of dementia caregiving” - I don’t even know if that exists, but it seems mighty worthy.
Yes, I think I'm in a very small niche. You don't usually hear about dementia and mental illness co-existing, but I think that it will become a bigger group as people become more aware. Thanks for reading, Paté 🤍
Thanks Kirie!
What a powerful and poignant story, Ilona. Loosing our parents is such a profound process, and your particular story has so many layers of added emotional complexity. This process is rarely talked about and I admire your willingness to share, because it can make those of us who have gone through similar experiences feel less alone.
Thanks for your uplifting comment. I do struggle with sharing, but then I think why keep it a secret? It happened and it maybe it won't make someone feel as alone, as you say. Also, I waited until both my parents passed away before telling the story. I do feel a sense of freedom with releasing it to the universe.
Heartbreaking in so many ways. It is true that much of what we do for our loved ones toward the end is essentially to comfort ourselves. A means to quell the guilt, I suppose. But those acts are still important and our intentions are pure. Thank you for sharing.
I appreciate your insight on this, Michelle. I did do it for myself, but I realize now how pointless it was. My former mother would have liked to look coiffed and put together, but this wasn't the same mom. Thanks for reading !
I have five brothers and sisters, and after helping my 90-something father care for my mother toward the end, I finally begged them to step in (I lived next door, so it was natural I'd be "the one.") One sister stepped in and it wasn't pretty; I fled to NY for the winter to live in my husband's space. And immediately, Dad died, and Mom went into care. Just these past few days I've felt some regret that maybe I should have stayed here and cared for her, even though she didn't usually know who I was. And told myself that my job was and remains to care first for myself. And my husband. The hospice she was in was awesome, and we could visit there any time, and two of my sisters were there as Mother died, the three of us singing to her and reading poetry and holding her.
Ilona..so powerful. I lost both my parents very early (mom was 56, dad was 51) so didn't understand what it would be like until I married Tom and watched as his parents became more elderly. The staff at the assisted care center threatened to kick my MIL out many times because of her meanness to staff and she was abusive to my husband his entire life. It was hard, but not in the way you describe. I'm so sorry and think of you as a warrior.
That's a really nice thing to say, especially coming from you. You're the warrior! I am surprised that they didn't kick her out, but instead, they simply pointed out that it's part of the disease--that it wasn't really her. I think it was her (LOL) but I'm glad she eventually ran out of energy to do those things.
Oh my goodness, Ilona! What a horrifying experience that your father somehow injured your mother and, post-surgery, she never returned to "herself." And then he became the loving caregiver, which seems so improbable. You write about all this so beautifully that I felt I was going through it with you. You always seem to me to be so bright and healthy and energetic, and I truly had no idea you'd suffered through this. Thanks for sharing.
Ilona Goanos: My goodness, your family had constant hardships. You experienced agony and heartbreak early and continuously, which increases my admiration of your inner strength.
Nancy and I just checked in with the Hotel Barbarossahof after crossing the Atlantic all night, where, from the Frankfurter Flughafen we drove to Mehlingen-Kreis Kaiserslautern in the Rheinpfalz, my second homeland. Your email was the first in my Hotmail account.
Still, will be largely on „radio-silence“ during the two weeks, but yours was a compelling piece.
I hope you and the Mrs. enjoy yourselves. I'll try and keep the Kamala campaign going while you're away. Be safe!
Yeah for the Kamala campaign! Thanks for that, Ilona! We'll all be joyful warriors together!
Thank you for sharing - such a sad story. Hope you find strength every day to carry on.
Thank you, Gerri. That happened about 10 years ago. Still processing it all!
Powerful and beautiful writing! With no siblings it was all up to you. I can’t imagine your feelings seeing your dad handcuffed away, your mom seriously hurt. Thank you for sharing from your heart. It shows as you cared for her hair, clothes… just being there for her. I had three sibs…. We took turns. It was mine the day I sat with her as she yelled at the ceiling she was going to heaven, to see Bill, my dad. She recalled his name, knew what she wanted in those last hours. I held her hand as she passed, reuniting up there at last. Thank you for this, Ilona… it was healing to write, to lift a bit of heaviness. God bless you with peace. 🙏 🙏 Sending much love to you! 🫶❤️🤗
Thank you for sharing as well, Joan. I hope sharing made someone else feel less alone. I only feel that I can share because both of them have passed. The situation was a terrible one to be in, and there was no one else who could relate in a deep way.
Thank you for sharing so openly Ilona. Big hugs- it's not easy to share so deeply.
It gets easier each time! Thanks for your lovely comment, Janet.
This piece is so powerful. You've taken a deeply personal and painful experience and turned it into something that resonates with so many. Your vulnerability is a gift, and it reminds us that we're all connected through our shared human experience. It takes courage to share our stories, especially the difficult ones, but in doing so, we create space for healing and connection.
Thank you for your bravery and for reminding us that we're not alone.
Thank you for such a beautiful note. When we share stories, they don't have as much power over us. The added benefit, as you say, is we can help others to feel less alone by holding ourselves up to the light.
Dementia is such a thief. I can relate all too well with your story, an only child, depressive mother. My mother was also an alcoholic, and suffered from dementia in her later years. We end up with so many stories. Some are funny, others tragic. I used to joke that I was going to put an ad on Craigslist asking for a sibling to help care for an elderly parent. I never found the sibling, but my mother and I did settle into a final peace at the end of her life, which I'm grateful for. It's nice to find an outlet for our stories, and remind each other that we are all in this boat together. 💚
There are so many layers to my story, and you touched on a few of them in your thoughtful comment. She drank alcohol every day, and I didn't realize until recently that she and my dad were dependent on it. I'm glad you and your mom found a peace at the end. I did not, and I think that's why I still write about it.
That peace is still available to you through your writing, and I believe you will find it. That peace at the end of the day is actually your transformation, not your mother's. Keep writing! It not only helps you, but all those who read your work and can relate.
Ilona, I can’t help thinking that in some way, the efforts you made to help your mother “regain” herself were not in vain. Especially if they helped you in some small way it was well worth the window dressing. I’ve lost both my parents and I know how hard those last few months and sometimes years are.
Thanks for the reframe. Yes, doing those thing for my mom did help me feel better, like I was actually doing something instead of just watching the decline.
I know it’s hard for the person going thru the illness, but it’s got to be hard for the child especially in your case since it wasn’t an easy relationship to begin with.Thank you for sharing this - that can’t have been easy either!
Oh Ilona, how heart-breaking for you all, and yet heart-warming to hear how your father cared for your mother as long as he could despite it all. I see where you get your strength. Thank you for sharing!
Yes, my dad was that kind of guy. He was there for her no matter what.
Oh, sister. I’m honored to read this - your intimate sharing and I pray it was cathartic for you. I also think …. Hmmm … that maybe it belongs in a “recovery group for survivors of dementia caregiving” - I don’t even know if that exists, but it seems mighty worthy.
Yes, I think I'm in a very small niche. You don't usually hear about dementia and mental illness co-existing, but I think that it will become a bigger group as people become more aware. Thanks for reading, Paté 🤍