When Your Kids Are Worthless...

you'd better hope you don't have Alzheimers.

I just filed a report of elderly abuse and neglect on behalf of my last remaining grandparent, my grandmother in Hometown. Widowed almost 20 years ago, completely abandoned by two of her children, emotionally, physically, and/or financially neglected by the other three, she is unsafe in her own home (to which she doesn't even have a key).

During our visit to Hometown this weekend, Hubby, the girls, and I visited her house, and I was devastated by what I found: a woman wasting away, alone, and in complete denial of her condition. We smelled something burning and eventually found a coffee pot still plugged in and starting to smoke. I noticed the feces-stained panties crumpled in a corner of the living room. I checked the refrigerator and freezer only to see that they were virtually empty.

When she explained a picture of her grandmother to Hannah, she mentioned that her mother lives in such and such town. Her mother died almost 10 years ago. She'd forgotten that I had a second child. She repeated the same story - word for word - three times within the space of 5-7 minutes. The story was about her sister, Edith, who has been spreading lies about her, telling everyone at the nutrition center that she has Alzheimers (which, of course, she emphatically denies).

I went to the store Saturday evening and bought $200 worth of groceries and supplies for the house, took them over on Sunday morning and unloaded them for her. I also took sticky notes and wrote messages to post as reminders (i.e. "Remember to turn off" on the coffee pot). When I noticed her trash can (which didn't have a liner or bag inside) was full and started to empty it, I soon started gagging on what was either raw shit or dead something in the can. I washed the can with liquid dishwashing soap, but there was no bleach to be found. I explained to her that I'd gotten her some trash bags and she should use those now, which she seemed to think it was a great idea....I have little hope that she'll remember, despite me leaving the bags on the counter.

There's a lot more to the story, which goes all the way back to all but one of her children turning out to be completely worthless human beings. At this point, I can't sit back and do nothing, but my hands are tied as to how much I can do. I have no power of attorney or legal standing. Who does? My father...yeah, that one. He sits back and sends money to my aunt, which she's supposed to use to buy groceries for my grandmother. Yeah, doesn't happen...This would be the same aunt who let me smoke pot at 12 years old. The same aunt who was previously married to a man convicted of shooting a sheriff's deputy.

I'm just sad, pissed, extremely frustrated, and feeling horribly guilty. My heart is breaking for the woman who let me play with her makeup and eat chocolate ice cream 24 hours a day. She was always my favorite grandmother; she even watched Hannah one day a week when I went back to work after Hannah was born. Nobody deserves to be neglected like this, and I'm pissed that I can't change the situation. I feel guilty for choosing a career path that will very likely forever prevent me from closely caring for aging family members. In the same way that parents are held accountable for the safety and well being of their children, I think grown, capable adults should be responsible - to some extent - for the well being and care of parents who are mentally or physically incapacitated. I don't know what to expect from Adult Protective Services, but I'm afraid they won't be able to help until she's literally running around the middle of a highway or something. Until I hear more from them, however, I'm in a holding pattern, seeking information about resources and advice for handling Alzheimers patients in denial.

Guess What Santa Brought Me!!

The best stocking stuffer ever.....a $700 bill for car repairs!

And I was lucky enough to get it after doing almost all of my holiday shopping! It just keeps getting better, doesn't it? (Note: the dripping sound you hear would be my sarcasm.)