Hi, there. Welcome to Life Captured! I am opening up today about hospice care and how deeply it impacts the whole family. Writing was a vital lifeline for me during my own cancer treatments, even though I was just sending out group emails instead of running a blog like this. Now that my mom is in hospice with COPD, I find myself needing that same therapeutic outlet to process my thoughts. Since she is a very private person who would not love me putting this out there, I keep asking myself at what point her experience overlaps with my own enough that I am allowed to share my side of the story.
Today, I felt a deep wave of frustration toward my father, and a bit toward my mother as well. Even knowing how terribly I’ll miss them when they’re gone, these moments are hard. I’m writing this down to process my feelings and to remember exactly why I felt the way I did today.
It started around 9:30 AM when my mom texted asking what I was up to. I had only been awake for half an hour, spent time unloading and reloading the dishwasher, and was sitting down to a bowl of cereal. She mentioned her nurse was coming at 2:00 PM, so I offered to come over then to support her. Instead, she asked if I could be there by 10:30 or 11:00 AM to help bring food to my son’s apartment. By the time we finished texting, it was already 10:25 AM.
There was simply no way I could make a 10:30 arrival, and even 11:00 AM was a stretch since I still needed to get dressed, brush my teeth, and care for my dog. I let her know I’d be on my way shortly and estimated an 11:15 AM arrival, ultimately pulling up at 11:35 AM.
When I arrived, my dad was already loading the truck. When I mentioned I thought I was helping Mom, he made a comment about my being late “getting old.” But it wasn’t a matter of being late. It was a matter of unrealistic, short-notice expectations. The tension quickly escalated into a heated argument, and I ended up walking out. Later, after talking it through with my husband, he gently pointed out that I shouldn’t have yelled, but suggested I set a clear boundary with my parents: moving forward, I need 24 hours’ notice for non-emergency requests with an expected arrival time.
I’m going to pause here for today, but I’ll continue sharing updates as we navigate this hospice journey together. Writing these posts is helping me process the emotional ups and downs, the boundary struggles, and the quiet moments in between. Thank you for reading and being a safe space for me to share both the beautiful and the heavy parts of this process. More updates to come soon.
Yesterday is today’s memory.
Be sure to capture your memory today!
All the best,.
Debra Ellen
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