Yep. My father did most of his dying 1,500 miles away from me. I was there for many parts of what turned out to be his final months, but the distance did suck in a big way. I feel for all of you who are going through this.

Are we experiencing a bumper crop of parental illnesses?

Like Dar said, sometimes all the options suck.

It seems like a bad year all around.

I'd have to agree with that remark, unfortunately.

Thank you, dar, and wolf. Your kind words given at such a difficult time for yourselves mean a lot to me.
That'd be me :neutral:. I have one surviving brother who is very supportive of what I do and always there for me on the phone.

I am thrilled today to have found a thing called an Analogue FCT device to which it seems, I can attach my mother's familiar Big Button phone so that she can make calls to me and her friends while she's still able to use familiar technology (an ordinary mobile is beyond her, and has been for years). I'm willing to take the risk that she'll ring far too often ... we'll simply be "out" :o ...
I have also found some online forums for people going through what I am and am taking comfort from reading their stories.
And tomorrow I have to pack up stuff from her house to do with her main interest (dog breeding) and send it to her doggie friends to assess where/whether it should be kept (i.e. breed club archives or bin). Not so thrilling.

I was thinking that. Bring back the summer of celebrity deaths and go easy on the dwellar rellies.

Thoughts always with you Limey. Mum's bro is in Australia and remembers Britain as he left it in 1979. "Stick him in a home!" he says - not entirely callously. Mum has to explain these days it's not so easy, so well funded, and he won't just be down the street in The Elms, all bills paid and happy as larry.

Sole responsibility is hard enough. Another sibling - with love and respect but not rolling their sleeves up is tough too. But love for a rapidly changing parent must be on a different level.

You know you can always call me now. I'll shut up and listen, I promise.

Thank you Sundae! Today has not been easy, but it's all gotta be done:
Made a start on compiling a "life story" book for my mum so that the care home staff can relate to her and her interests
Took a friend round to my mum's house to see if she could use anything there. It's good to know that things like wellie boots are going to good use with people I care about.
Started packing up the archive.
Got distracted by personal papers.
Went to see my mum - she says it is killing her to live in the home, but likes the garden, the minibus trips out, one of the lounges, the food ... begs me to let her come and stay for the weekend. All credit to Wolf, I just couldn't do it and said so. Mum doesn't want to see her dogs because "they represent everything that I have lost". She wants, we both want, the life we had planned for her, not this. Not this.

Ah chick.
The trade off between what speaking, thinking loved ones want, and what they can really cope with.
Damned hard.

When Mum retired they "put" Grandad in a home for two weeks while they went on holiday. Sounds awful, but it was sort of a trial run, with his full consent - they knew he was sinking and wanted to see if he would be happy. His health was good enough that his happiness was the main issue.

Mum wasn't trying to off-load him or anything awful like that, but she thought if he enjoyed it (as his sisters Emma and Anne do) he could have a better quality of life, especially if his health deteriorated.

He hated it. He said it was full of old people and he didn't want to be around them.

Now Mum had checked it - it was clean (NHS, not a given). There were activities. The schedule was what Grandad kept mostly. Similar food to wahst he eats just without him having to heat it or do the washing up. Company.

Nope. Hated it, hated it, hated it. Like a child gone to boarding school. Had it been Claridges I suspect he would have reacted the same.

She hasn't dared raise it since.

Old people hate change. Not being mean, but they have in every aspect I've met them in.
And they don't sometimes get what's good for them.
To balance this, neither do teenagers :)
You can only do what you think best. What you can sleep with at night. And if you do it with love then whatever happens, you should sleep peacefully.

Like Wolf, you're a great daughter doing a tough job.
Much love.

I fear in some senses that I am looking at the life I am in a sense fighting for! My heart is torn with realization of that which is coming all too soon.

She got her wish.
Shortly after Christmas my mum developed a chest infection which did not respond to antibiotics, so they tried different ones. On Tuesday the Nursing Home decided to send her to the local cottage hospital for intravenous antibiotics, as they thought she'd developed "a pneumonia". Within an hour of arriving at hospital she had slipped into unconsciousness. Apart from a period of agitation yesterday evening, that's how she stayed until she died at ten to midnight, Wednesday 6th January.

I'm so sorry limey.

Condolences my friend. It is a tough situation. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this difficult time.

Just reading this thread and nothing much to add. You do the best you can and as much as you can. No guilt, no remorse. When my mother was in the final stages of dying, her breathing changed. Each breath that we take for granted became strained and hard for her to complete. There were moments where she stopped altogether and then took a deep breath and went on. In the end, the breathing got slower and more faint. Finally, like the last note of a symphony she let a breath out and did not inhale. We (the kids) were somewhat relieved, but our dad just sat there and cried, 62 years of marriage and companionship does not pass so easily.

I was glad I was there and would not have it any other way.

Limey, I'm so sorry, but it seems she was all done with her life and ready to release you back to yours. I bet it hurts like hell and then some, but she isn't hurting any more and she will always be there in your thoughts and memories and actions.