Happy New Year!

Dear Mom,

As the new year begins I can't help but think of you. Lately, I find myself wearing the necklace with your ashes in it. When you passed I wasn't sure if having your ashes with me was morbid or a good idea. I realized it was an "ok" idea after finding the perfect one for me and the girls. Your oldest grandchild, A, has a beautiful guitar, your middle grandchild, Z, has angel wings, and the youngest, C, has a locket with a picture of you holding her the day she was born. For myself I found two I couldn't decided between, so I got both. One looks like the guitar from the movie 'Coco', I teared up when I saw it. The second, my favorite, is a Treble Clef with a rose gold heart. I am still trying to figure out if wearing it helps or makes me miss you more.

Last night I noticed Z wearing her angel winged necklace of you. She also had the necklace you gave her years ago. The vintage Victorian Rose Pendant. So elegant and beautiful like you. Before the diagnosis. Before you couldn't take care of yourself. Before you couldn't smile anymore. Before your words became jumbled. Before you disappeared in front of us.

So, my hope, in writing these letters, this blog, is to talk to you like before. To share the emotions I can't seem to get out when someone asks how I am doing. I am going to write to you about how my day was, or what is happening with the girls, or with dad.

Here is my current problem: I don't feel like I can talk to anyone, truly and honestly. Sure, I can tell them I am not ok, most of my friends will just say "I am here if you need to talk". I don't want to tell them what is going on in my head. In the past when I have talked to someone about whatever serious thing going on at that time, either I pushed them away or they left on their own. Thinking about it while writing this...it was probably me, getting into my own head. Telling myself they couldn't possibly want to stay friends with me after hearing my ridiculousness. So I drove them all away before they could hurt me by sharing my secrets. Which now leaves me even more alone.

So here is the snag with being like that...Unfortunately, I have handed down that trait to my kids. Your grandkids. The eldest, A, hardly ever tells me how she is feeling, and tells me she has no friends to talk to. Which is also my fault and I will write about it another time. My middle, Z, has too many emotions I can't handle. Imagine if ALL the characters from the movie Inside Out were running rampant in the real world...that is Z. And then there is my youngest, C. She tries to hide her feelings, but since having the older two I am trying to learn from my mistake and gently ask her what is wrong. Telling her keeping it locked up is not good for her. Sometimes, she tells me and sometimes she doesn't. They all know, they can talk to me. I have to learn I can't force them to talk to me. I have to be patient and be a good example. So if I am feeling depressed or happy I try to tell them. My hope is it will show them how to express themselves and bottling it up can be detrimental.

All the ramblings above is why I want to write these letters to you. I am starting to realize I need an outlet. Since I don't talk to friends about what is really going on with me, I need to get out what is hiding inside. I may not practice it or go to church anymore but I do believe in God, that there is a Heaven, a Hell and when people pass on they watch over us. So I hope you get to read these letters. I hope getting out what I am harbouring will make me feel better, because I can't keep going like this. I just can't. It hurts too much.

I miss you terribly and if I stop for too long I think about you. I see all the things I could have, should have done differently with you and other people in my past. The plan is for future me doing better.

Love Always,

Your Daughter

#alzsucks #alzheimers #dementia #youarenotalone