Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds 💔

Years have passed, and I always thought that nothing could break the bonds of sisters. Life has a way of fooling you, or should I say people do. There were always differences among us. We would seem to stick together through whatever trials, but now we have lost our dear father. He was an anchor in our family, where our lives always seemed to end up when we needed the uneasy peace of home. His absence has left some without an oar, left us feeling upside down. I don't know if that is the reason for all the tension, maybe the fact that as we get older, we get more rigid. Now I have to shift, the years have made some unforgiving and resentful. They are no longer hiding it, so I must decide.

I still love them, but they clearly are angry. So how do I keep the peace for my mother's sake? After Dad died, I would help Mom with her finances and just try to give her access to me. She tried to handle the finances and bills, but became overwhelmed, and I began to take over the duties. My brother still lived with her, so I knew she was being physically taken care of, but emotionally, she was not doing well.  Then she got sick, and my mother suffered a heart attack in April 2021. She stayed home for at least a full day, not realizing how serious what was happening to her was. Her isolation was one reason, something she self-imposed. She refused to see a doctor about her AFib. It could also be that there were people in her ear telling her they would fix her. I wasn't until they called me in a panic because she was not getting better. I came to her the next morning, regretting I had not left our family day that evening of the call. I quickly realized that this was a very serious illness and called an ambulance. My brother seemed relieved that I called for help. The next few weeks were rough, her children came to her. She survived but she was struggling and needed someone with her at all times. 

Here is the where the crack widened. Mom wanted to come home after she spent some weeks in rehab. We all knew that she would wither away if she were to be put into a facility. It would have been been more tolerable if she could have come to live with me, which was offered to her many times before her sickness. She always refused, one reason was because she was always worried about my brother. More likely is that she just didn't want to. I called my sister and asked her if she could come to care for her until we figured out what to do. The resentment was immediate and she blamed me. She did come, and Mom was taken care of in many ways but the she was still receiving daily doses conspiracies and resentments. We have been unable to resolve this break for the moment.