I scheduled an appointment to visit an assisted living facility with my parents after my mom’s birthday in early August. They had two immediate openings for two rooms next to each other with a shared bathroom. They were willing to take both my mom and dad, although my mom needs memory care and my dad has a physical disability. We jumped at the opportunity. Finally a windfall!

My aunt threw a birthday party for my mom on her birthday which I attended. My mom expressed anger with me at her party for allowing my brother, whom I am guardian of, to have an unrestricted diet. It was all very awkward, being reprimanded by my mom in front of everyone in a public place. I told my mom we could talk about it later but at the moment we were there to have fun and celebrate her birthday.

My SIL also threw my mom a birthday party at the family cabin. It would probably be the last time she goes up to the cabin and maybe the last birthday she will be somewhat cognizant for. That in and of itself was depressing. Once again, my mom expressed anger towards me about Matt. I helped Matt make a plate of food for himself and my mom took half the food I put on his plate and threw it in the garbage. She was upset I forgot to bring his applesauce for him to take his pills. I also forgot a few other things I had no idea she wanted me to bring. She was so upset she wanted to leave.

Then last weekend arrived, the weekend my parents were set to move in. On Saturday we went up north and closed down the cabin for the season. Then my brothers and I sat down and talked for several hours about the plan going forward. What are we going to do with the house, cabin, their vehicles, finances, cleaning out the house, etc. My brother Luke said he was living off his faith to get through it. I said I was burning off my anger. It’s hard to have to grieve your parents while they are still alive, even more so because my relationship with my parents is complicated. I feel a lot of anger about how I was treated in the past and how the mess they made, we are going to have to clean up. Because of their hoarding tendencies, I think it’s going to take years to clean out the house. I hope I am wrong.

Then moving day came along. We went to my parents house to load up some of their belongings. My mom kept grabbing things to put in boxes. My SIL took them out and put them back. I decided to go outside with my mom to keep her out of their hair. My mom wanted to take a walk to her church down the road. I was the last one to walk with my mom down the only road that I could remember her living on. My mom stopped along the way to pull out weeds along the ditch. She carried them over to to a grassy area on an uneven pathway. I was afraid she might lose her step.

When we got to the church, mom wanted to walk around the cemetery and talk about people who died. I saw the gravestones of my ancestors and familiar names. My mom asked if I knew them, the graves of my great-great-grandparents. I said I did, but I didn’t really. I softly cried on the walk. My mom was always a fast walker, and I had to struggle to keep up. But this time she shuffled along and I was afraid she might not have the strength to make it all the way back.

This time my mom was kind towards me, almost childlike. I watched her say good-bye to her house, the only house I’ve ever seen her live in. The grief slipped from anger into sadness. My mom is gone now. She is leaving more and more every day.