Hoarding Love

I read this on a friend's timeline:
One of the hardest things you'll ever have to do, my dear, is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive."

I read it and immediately started crying, thinking of my mother who is so much gone and so much there. I don't spend enough time with her - not even on the phone - because I just never know how much of her I'll find and it hurts so much. I need to be more like my sister and just suck it up, I know, I know, I know. And people keep telling me that I MUST spend more time with her because someday I'll cherish that time. I wish I could spend more time with HER. Now, sometimes, she tells me to leave or fires me, or asks me my name. Those things are tougher than I am.

In my head I know that it's dementia causing this. It isn't that my mother chose to leave me. In fact, in her more lucid moments she mourns her loss even more than I do. She wants to move on and I am at a loss to help her. I am just not the least bit good at this.

I read the quote again the next day, and cried again, this time thinking of friendships and relationships lost. I tend to push new people away, I know, because that cold metallic rock in the pit of my stomach gets a bit larger when they leave.
My friend, Ish Major, has a show on television helping people get over lost relationships. I don't do that well. I love everyone I've ever loved and I frantically try to keep them all with me somehow, like a mother cat with a hundred kittens. It's disgusting, of course, not to mention tiring. But loving someone is so very precious and it seems that not maintaining at least the friendship part of it would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. It occurs to me I could be on a combination of ExIsle, Ish' show, and Hoarders. I hoard old friendships and relationships.

I'm pretty sure this makes me crazy or dysfunctional, or neurotic And in the case of my mother, just flat out selfish and a less than good daughter. It's a bit of me that I'm not in love with.

Me, Mom, and my big brother, Paul

I'm not looking for sympathy here. I know many people are going through much worse. I'm just saying, you know. Just saying. Just putting it out there.

As our populations continues to live to older and older ages (Mom is 93) and as we - including our medical system - continue to consider heartbeat and respiration the golden goal, more and more of us will be dealing with this.
Mom is fortunate to live in a beautiful assisted living complex. She has her own, very nice apartment full of her own things, round the clock help, yummy and plentiful food (the little woman can eat!). She is blessed to have my sister, Nancy, who lives 45 minutes from Mom and visits her often and keeps track of all her medical stuff, etc.

But she doesn't want to be here.

I should call her. i should call her right now. Oh, but look, it's 12:01. She'll be at lunch now. I will call her a bit after 1:00, when she'll be back in her room. I'll try to prepare myself for whatever conversation comes. Please, please, please, Fay. Call her at 1:00.