I'm walking thru the fog of my father's last days. It could be today... it could be who knows. Some days are good, some not. People ask me how he's doing, like I know. I'm not a doctor. Even the doctors don't seem to have actual answers let's try this & see if it works.
I'm becoming friends with the phrase "I don't know" and trying to forgive the people who want to politely ask, but don't really want to hear how bad some days are. All I can do is try to be there for him to the best of my ability and not let others try to define what I'm going thru, what he's going thru.
Raw anger is not acceptable in polite company. Confusion isn't a neat, clean package others want to experience. This is messy and terrible.. and sometimes quiet and ok. Thank you for allowing me to speak openly. This is so difficult. And it's not even the death part yet.