I love quotes. They keep me going. These words remind me that somewhere, buried deep, deep, deep down, I’ve got the strength to keep going — I think of this strength as a little ball of bright-white, super-awesomeness that just needs some oomph to be catapulted up and out. I’ve managed to vomit a little bit of brightness over the last few years… so it’s a work in progress, I guess.

114174576_464edbc376Naturally, with my mom, I have ups and downs… triumphs and bloody losses… and when I feel defeated, it can be devastating for me because I am incredibly hard on myself. I dissect my failures. I think about them. I dwell on them. I over-analyze every word, every moment; I tell myself that I’m a bad daughter.

When I’m walking alone in this dark, lonely place, I use the power of words, other people’s words (including those of my friends and therapist), as a reminder that I am not a terrible daughter, that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel — and yes, I have been going through a, “I-am-a-crap-daughter-and-caregiver” couple of weeks, hence the last three blog entries, thanks for asking — I may come out a little bloody, have a few broken ribs, and a slight concussion, but dementia is a fierce opponent.

Some quotes I’m living by this week… and of course, if you have any you love and live by, share:

“If you are going through hell, keep going.” ~Winston Churchill

“When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.” ~Franklin D. Roosevelt

“If you think you’re enlightened, spend a week with your parents.” ~Ram Dass

One comment

  1. It always seems impossible until it is done. Nelson Mandela

    Unfortunately, it will NOT last forever. You will get through it. And you are too hard on yourself! I had to laugh reading about her yelling “mihijita”…the irony is that she still knows who you are. But I wanted to cry reading about her grabbing your wrists at church – I remember the times my dad exploded with fire eyes when he had been such a man of patience and carefully chosen words all his life. It was scary and not fun. But six months past his funeral, I feel the fading of those incidents and am being left with the memory of who he REALLY was.

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