Coping with dying family member

The only advice that I can give you is cry it all out. Losing a family member especially the one that you have a strong connection feels really incredibly painful.

But there's one thing that's also inevitable. It won't be like that after some time. Grief takes time and time heals wounds. One day, you'll remember all the good memories and you'll smile. The moments that you spent with her will always be there in your memories. Cherish those memories.

 

Try and get support also from other family members and friends. I lost a relative to alzheimers and of course it sucks … and I did not 'cry it out' or seek support from friends, which would have been better all round.

 

I am sorry you are having to go through this, ~big hugs~

I think cry when you feel like you need to and lean on friends and family as well. It is a hard thing to go through and don't feel like you have to go through it all alone.. If anything, we are all here for you as well.

Maybe you could make some kind of a tribute to her, or do something in her name, just know it does take time and don't feel ashamed of being down and wanted to feel sad, it is a natural feeling and it is perfectly normal.

 

I had an aunt die of cancer this year. It was horrible. Definitely give yourself time and space to feel with as little pressure or stress on you as you can manage. Take good care of yourself and give it time. I am so sorry you are going through this.

 

My grandfather, on my mother's side, had Alzheimer's. It, too, wore him down, and was the end of him.

Unlike you, though, I was not terribly close with the man. He was always kind-enough to me, when he was in a better mental state. As he succumbed to Alzheimer's, he was still a very nice and thoughtful fellow, but the frequency of this diminished. He was still himself, but he had lapses, where he'd sort of go into this blank state, being totally incapable of doing anything. He was always able to talk, but he'd forget or repeat things, a lot. It reached a point, it became almost impossible to hold a conversation, because he'd forget as soon as he heard, what you said.

Distance helped me, but it appears it will do little good for you. As difficult as it may be to do, you should make their final days more bearable. One misconception about individuals with Alzheimer's is, their feelings are as sporadic as their thoughts. This isn't true, and I could see, in my grandfather's eyes, moments of fear and confusion. It was like he, knew that he was not quite right, but could do nothing about it. For my grandfather, who was a kind and proud man, this must have been horrible. He was always a hard worker, a sort of joker, and a good man, according to my grandmother, who never liked to be a crutch for anybody. You can obviously imagine, how Alzheimer's made my grandfather feel.

If you had a great relationship, before, you still do. Spend time with your family member, and show them, that you will be strong. That you will carry on, as poetically cliche as that sounds. It is beneficial, both for you, as well as this family member. You want their final moments, to be peaceful, and without worry or regret. This family member, may not be able to effectively communicate it, but I bet they feel an emptiness -- that lack of intimacy and joy, that you provided them. It is sensible to accept, you need some time to deal and cope, to clear your head, but don't dally too much. Time is a cruel mistress, and waits for no one. Don't take her for gratitude, ever.

Remember, when this comes to pass, you'll have a choice to make. Do you live in misery, a way this family member, I assume, would not want you to? Or, will you take some of their lessons and examples, and nurture and share them with others?

Even though I was not very close with my grandfather, he taught me tidbits of wisdom. The more I overhear about him, the more impressed I become. He had a fantastic work ethic and people handling skills, things that, I myself, would like to master, and demonstrate to others.

One the most profound things, he ever told me, was:

"Only spend money on what makes you money."

I've taken this further. I only spend time on things, that will benefit myself or another. To feed negative aspects, will only strengthen their hold and guarantee their stay. But to invest in positive aspects, well, you can see where I'm going with this. In a way, I've made a sort of amends with my being distant, by carrying on, in my own little ways, my grandfather's memory. And, I like to think, if he is somewhere, looking down, that he'll see I'm not letting his time here, go in vain, or to become a forgotten relic.

When my grandfather passed away, I was not there. I was the only grandchild not to be there. But I had seen him, a few days before, and got about 10 minutes, alone, with him. I remember him breathing heavily, laying in bed, just looking at the wall. I was sitting in a chair, off to the side, a few feet from the foot of his bed. He starts to look around the room, finally, settling on me. He keeps up with that heavy breathing, and I look up at him. Both of us, say nothing. I didn't know what to say. Finally, my grandfather begins to laugh, and says:

"I'm not scared anymore."

I ask him, scared of what? He is silent for a minute, then says:

"Dying."

I really didn't want to discuss this, with a dying man, who I wasn't very close to. But he kept saying, he wasn't scared. I was quiet. Eventually, my grandmother comes into the room, and asks what had happened. I inform her of what my grandfather said, and he just nods in confirmation when she asks him. He keeps looking at me, and I say nothing, only looking up every now and then. Then, I hear:

"Are you scared?"

I ask, of what? And he just repeats the question. I assume, he means death, so, I tell him, no, to humor him. He just smiles and, lets out his 'Yeah, Right' laugh, and says:

"You can't fool me!"

And for a moment, I just smirked. Here my grandfather, in a lapse from his condition, becomes his old playfully condescending self, and getting onto me. My grandmother had tears in her eyes, so I knew she felt it too.

That was the last time I talked to my grandfather. My last image of him, living, was tilting his head to look at my grandmother and I, leaving. My grandmother told him, she loved him, and he just nodded.

Despite my distance, I know, my stubbornness, in it's own quirky way, comforted my grandfather. Just being there, made his situation easier. I assume, it is the same, with most any Alzheimer's patient.

I'll keep you in thought, and cross my fingers.

(*hug*) (*hug*) (*hug*)

 

There's nothing to do, look to tommorow.