Anger…Oh Boy!

Sadness I expected….anticipated.  It’s part of grief.  But anger? Therapy in my twenties took care of that.  Or so I thought. 

And it's sneaky.  Creeps up and surprises….out of nowhere.  Kinda like the tears do.  Angry first at my dad for being dead and not being here.  Then pissed at the stupid banks, utility companies, charities (charities kept sending her mail and not stopping - even at my request).  And then everything.

My sis and I had durable power of attorney, letters signed by two geriatric doctors stating mom could not handle her financial affairs, and the bank manager would not allow us to view all her accounts without a conservatorship.  (Even with durable power of attorney, you may need conservatorship to access/control funds). By the way, in seeking a conservatorship, they declare your loved one ‘incompetent’.  In a court, with a judge and the ‘incompetent’ person gets to hear that stated.   Incompetent??!!?? She can’t balance a freakin’ checkbook, not crazy! That word is seriously charged. Talk about stripping someone’s dignity!  Angry? I was furious.  Wanted everyone’s head. 

Be prepared to spend hours and hours on the phone with banks, utility companies, insurance companies trying to straighten out the money.  I was not ready for any of it – especially her confusion surrounding money.  Mom may pay the same bill two, three times; forget to pay a bill or randomly take money out of the ATM.  We now have a third party handling the finances.

I vacillate between being sad and being angry that this disease has stripped away her ability to understand finances.  She used to work for a bank, retired from one.  She was their go-to person.  Now we are her go-to people.

And again I’ve had to figure out how to handle sideways anger.  You know it - that stuff that eeks out at people - especially the good ones, like my sis.  Getting agitated that she thinks I’m saying one thing when I’m really saying something else – isn’t she listening to me?! Then either one of us cracks a stupid joke or we rush off the phone.  

The anger and at times rage, is really at this disease, grief in a different form.  No control, I have no control when the symptoms are going to get worse, how they will present themselves or how mom will react.  And I have not even begun to process what Voyageur wrote in her last post – mom’s very beginning, very slight confusion surrounding family relations, in particular to her daughters.

So for me, it’s back to basics.  My basics are running, little bit of kick-boxing, yoga, meditation, time with friends, photography, playing words with friends, talking with my sister.  Basics help me to recenter, get grounded so I can continue to be her advocate.  Recommendation…find your ‘basics’ sooner than later.  Mine save my butt, everytime.    Back to ya sis.