......enough just has to be enough.
We hit our breaking point this past Thursday. In the wake of my Former Supposed Spouse's abrupt departure from our household two weeks ago, the remainder of his family - his ex wife, and their two children - were kind of left in limbo. He had been renovating a trailer for them to move into but it wasn't anywhere near finished. I've been trying to round up enough help to kind of throw enough of what was left to be done together so that they could at least move in but I wasn't having much luck.
Thursday rolls around and I have to take my oldest boy to Helena to spend the summer with his dad. I planned to stay overnight to visit friends and be back Friday, late afternoon. I had explained to my mother what was happening, who was going to be at the house, and what to do if she needed anything. I offered to have someone come and stay with her - a trick we have used before when leaving town for more than overnight but she said no, she would be fine. The FSS and I had just been to Great Falls overnight earlier in the month and that went off without a hitch. There wasn't even a phone call panicking because there was no wheat bread.
So, having no real fear that anything too awfully bad would happen, I went on my merry way.
About 6:30 Thursday night, I get a call from my mother who was in full on panic mode. There had been some issues the weekend before with the step-son and bringing friends to the house and some indications that maybe the step-son and his nephew (who is a couple years older) were up to no good. So I had found the step-son somewhere else to stay.
And I assured Ma that he would not be around while I was gone because somewhere in her plaque-riddled brain, she had developed an extreme fear of this child. I don't know why. He has never EVER threatened her or attacked her or even really said a cross word to her. (One of the many mysteries of Alzheimer's!) Plus, I made it very clear to both his sister and his mother that he was not to be at the house at ALL while I was gone and certainly not unsupervised.
Only his mother decided that she thought it would be okay.
And it was so very far from okay. He did come to the house. His mother wasn't there. He was picking up some clothes to take to his older brother's house. As best as I can put it together from what my mother was able to tell me through her sobs is that he came in the back door, walked right past her, didn't say a word, didn't answer her when she asked why he was there and just kept right on going out into the living room.
And she went off the deep end. I will omit the gory details out of respect for her. Just trust me when I say it was not good.
I called the police in Havre to have them do a welfare check on her because she was sobbing uncontrollably and terrified out of her mind. The same cop who responded when the FSS flipped out on me also responded to this incident. (I thank god for cops like Officer Corner of the Havre Police Department. He's one of the good ones.) No tickets were issued, he just took down the facts, had the EMTs check her out and advised everyone to go where they were supposed to be staying and stay there.
I was able to get one of Ma's good friends go over and sit with her for a bit to calm her down. And the night went on without further incident. And thank you, Mrs. Former Chief. You are an angel.
..........
When I came home on Friday, I sat down with the step-daughter and the Ex Wife and told them very calmly but firmly that they had to leave. That night. I had done my best to get us all through a terribly, horribly, awfully awkward situation but it just wasn't going to work anymore. My mother is sitting in her chair sobbing because she's afraid to be in her own house with them. That was completely unacceptable. Her health and well being and safety and serenity (such that it is) has to come first.
I have no real solid answer for why my mother had such a horrific meltdown. My best guess is that she confused the Step-Son with the FSS. And since she had heard the commotion when HE attacked ME, she was terrified that the Step-Son was going to hurt her in the same way. Those connections between people, places, things and events are being severed by this insidious.....slime...that takes away a little more of her everyday.
I'm having a hard time keeping my anger in check on this one. A sick, scared, elderly woman did something that ordinarily is completely out of character and would have never happened if she was still in her right mind. But she's not in her right mind. She never will be again. And while it was wrong, it was also completely preventable. If they had done what I told them and waited until I got home the next day, it wouldn't have happened.
Now that the extra people are gone from our home, I can see the effects of the Alzheimer's coming in and gradually fogging out the memories of this event. I will count that as a blessing. I will count my recent acquisition of a backbone as a blessing. unpleasant as the decisions it allows me to make may be.
The learning curve for this disease is as steep and twisty as a mountain road...lots of switchbacks and blind corners and falling rocks and hazards jumping out around every curve. Some of the lessons I've learned from this mess?
-Doing the right thing is seldom the popular thing, and it's NEVER easy, but it has to be done. The people who truly love and care about me and Ma and Bug and Schmoopie will stand by me and catch me when I stumble. All you other people who would judge me, give me the stink eye, gossip about me, or suggest that I shouldn't tell my truth? Well, you know what you can go do to yourself.
-You cannot help someone who is unwilling or unable to help themselves. I did everything I could to help the Ex Wife and the Step-kids. I did way more than most people would.
-You can genuinely feel bad for people and the situations they find themselves in without taking on the responsibility for their problems. The world didn't wake up one day and take a giant dump on them for no reason. Their OWN actions got them where they are, NOT mine.
-I'm stronger than I give myself credit for.
And I'm getting stronger with every tear.
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