Nothing but a stranger. Mum doesn’t know who I am.

jeixo

She doesn’t know who I am. My own mother. I’m nothing but a stranger. I look at her and I see so many memories and it pains me that she looks at me and sees none. In my previous post, I said how I’d always be by her bed because I wanted her to go knowing she always had someone there for her. It’s just become to painful now to sit there and watch the confusion take control of her. 

I didn’t expect this to happen. I thought she would still be her same old self right till the end and now that this has happened it’s become too much to bear. I’ve spent less time then usual at her bedside the last couple days and I feel guilt, but I know my limits and I just can’t put myself through that.

What’s most heartbreaking is watching how my dad looks at her. His eyes, so longing for the days before all of this, the days I think we both took for granted. It hurts to see him this way, he’s not an emotional person. I’ve never seen him cry until now.

I don’t know how much time is left but I know it’s not much. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to prepare myself for what seems like was inevitable from the start but I think preparing is useless. I don’t want to be strong anymore. I’m so tired of it.