Writing about all of this brings up memories I have of my mother being "normal". I can remember her being a very spiritual woman. She would always take me and my younger brother to church. I specifically remember a Christmas play that she put us in. I was the angel that floated above baby Jesus.

It is hard to sit and have all of the memories come flooding back without tearing up. I know that my mother didnt make the decision to have this horrible disease, but I sit and wonder why I was the one choosen to be put in this situation. My family has left all of the responsiblity of caring for her to me. I have both a younger and older brother who refuses to help, let alone see her. Thus, I am the only one left, and if I didnt do anything for her she would be all alone.

On my 18th birthday, I had to make the horrible decision to put her in a nursing home. I had moved away to attend college. At the time she was living on her own, but in the short 2 months that I was gone her ability to perform personal heygeine had gone down hill. My mom could no longer take care of her person and we were all afraid she would have an accident cooking or while in the shower. Since I was gone to school and neither one of my brothers could help, there was no choice but to move her to a nursing facility. This was the hardest decision of my life. I wonder everyday if I did make the right decision, or should I drop out of college and move back to care for her?? This is the question that constantly sits on my mind.