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I have a new life now—at age sixty-five; it's my turn to live. I raised three sons, took care of my son twenty-four/seven until he crossed over, and I took care of my mom for two-and-a-half years also twenty-four/seven. I had an aide come two days a week to be with my mom, and I would run to the bank, pharmacy, and my own doctor or dentist appointments. I didn't mind, but after such a long time of no time for me, I became overwhelmed with depression.

I would sometimes just lie awake at night asking God, “When God, when will it be my turn to live the rest of my life?” I did what I could for my son and my mother with no family help. My mom had dementia at eighty years old. My heart went out to her, because I promised years past that I would never allow her to be put in any type of home for the aging.


I kept my promise until there was no other choice—she fell in our parlor, and broke her hip. After surgery, she was placed in a rehabilitation home two blocks from our home. I felt more at ease knowing she was close by, and I could visit her any time. It was just a horrible experience for my mother; I regret allowing her to be placed in the rehab center. The workers were on strike, and they assured me it would not affect my mother’s care. A kitchen worker befriended my mom and sexually assaulted her, knowing she had dementia and hoping that she would not be believed. This worker probably was not even a citizen. Once my mom was home in her own bed, she would sleep with her eyes open and would say don't let him hurt me anymore. Even the attorney I hired dropped the case, and said no one would believe it and was not sure we would win. So I took my mom home and had help come to our home.

With winter in Connecticut and with needing help lifting my mom, I received an invitation to move to New Mexico so my other son would be able to help. I packed up, and drove my mom to New Mexico; what a nightmare!

My mom lived from our arrival date of November 2010 to June 2011.


What a strange feeling to be able to walk out my door and get used to not having to worry about leaving my son or my mother. it took me months to realize I only had to take care of just me, for the first time in three years.


I feel so good about taking my loved ones in and being able to take care of them when no one else would, but now I finally come and go as i please, and leave the house without a worry. I enjoy my quiet time, my alone time. I am back to getting myself in shape, finally. Taking care of my loved ones has taken a toll on my health both emotionally and physically.


I have to have my hernia repaired from constantly lifting, but I plan on staying in New Mexico— for a woman on a fixed income, it's a great place to live. Loving the dessert, no ice or snow, which makes for easier living. I am now meeting and building new friendships. This is the last third of my life, and I now know I made the right decision to move, to get away from so many sad memories and have a new beginning. I have very few regrets. I did what any mother/daughter is expected to do. Now I am beginning to plan trips to fulfill my bucket list. It's a major change to be able to grocery shop and not be racing around rushing home to relieve an aide.

Just my time, my quiet time to sit and plan out the rest of my life. I am now meeting new male friends as well. It's amazing how my life has changed, and I am thankful for my turn to live.

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