Me and my family – the dream team of 6 (mainly my mum though – who I’ll be forever in awe of – ever) have been giving end of life care to my Nana for the past year. The whole house has changed, my Nana has changed, she’s not the same lady who cared for me when I was younger. We all agreed that caring for my Mum’s Mum at home was what was going to happen. Her deterioration and determination to hang on is at times very overwhelming to live with. Each one of us is effected in different ways.
Living with someone with heart failure is hard, living with someone who has dementia is really tough, living with someone who has been given a year to live is fear every night. Living with all of that and in lockdown is a whole different kettle of fish.
I am lucky to have a roof over my head to isolate in, but I want to escape most days because I can’t deal with watching someone die.
I am lucky to have my family around me, we are getting through this together and it is an honour to witness and be part of the end of my Nana’s life. We will be closer because of this chapter, but I want to scream at them at times, I want to know how they’re feeling and also never speak to them for weeks.
I want to go for a coffee to breathe for an hour so I don’t have to listen out for someone else’s breathing.
It’s the start of another week and my Nana is like an alien, an imposter, a needy baby, a tiny body of so many memories and fun and strength, the thing that makes me smile the most in the day, seeing her smile back.
I don’t ever want her to leave this lifetime.
Any carer, young carer, care giver, rest bite worker, relief for someone out there, I salute you, I have had a glimpse into that life.
I salute you and I see you, and you are strong, and you may not get a thank you everyday but you are not unnoticed.
Rest in peace beautiful Nana. 11th June 2020. Forever lucky to have had her as my Nana.