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Я більше не можу: Як влаштувати догляд за літньою матір’ю?

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Сьогодні я більше не можу. Куди подіти мою похилу матір?

Не знаю, скільки ще витримаю. Спочатку здавалося — переживу. Що це лише важкий період, що любов та терпіння допоможуть. Але зараз я на межі. Емоційно, фізично, морально. Хтось може засуджувати мене за ці слова. А хтось зрозуміє, бо сам через це пройшов. Хочу розповісти свою історію — не для виправдання, просто щоб виговоритися.

Мене звати Соломія, я — друга дитина в родині. Старший брат на три роки старший за мене. Мати народила нас у зрілому віці: його — у сорок два, мене — у сорок п’ять. Батьки довго не мали дітей, і коли нарешті це сталось, мати сприймала нас як справжнє диво. Ми були для неї сенсом життя. І попри велику різницю у віці з іншими матерями, вона старанно давала нам усе — турботу, тепло, освіту.

Коли мені було сімнадцять, помер батько. Для нас із братом це був жахливий удар, але для матері — кінець світу. Вона ледве оговтувалася, і я, як могла, підтримувала її. Брат поїхав навчатися, потім перебрався до Канади — працювати, будувати кар’єру, заводити родину. Ми лишилися вдвох. Я — і мама.

З тих пір минуло багато років. Зараз мамі сімдесят вісім. І я все ще поруч. Тільки тепер це вже не просто мати. Це людина, яка потребує постійного догляду. Майже цілодобового. І я не справляюся.

Мати забуває елементарне. Залишає працюючий праску, не вимикає плиту, може покласти чайник у холодильник, а молоко — у шафу. Я вже тисячу разів казала, щоб не допомагала — я сама все зроблю. Але вона продовжує — з добрих намірів, зі звички, з бажання бути корисною. Тільки це більше заважає, ніж допомагає. А мені соромно сказати: «Мам, не роби цього», — бо я бачу, як їй боляче від усвідомлення власної безпорадності.

Нещодавно сталося найстрашніше. Мати вийшла на вулицю і не повернулася. Вона забула, куди йде. Забула, де живе. Ми шукали її понад три години. Я обдзвонила всіх знайомих, оббігла округу, ледь не збожеволіла. Знайшли випадково — подруга побачила її на іншому кінці міста й зателефонувала мені. Мати була розгублена, змерзла, перелякана. А я — вичавлена, зламана, спустошена.

І це — не виняток. Це стало буденністю. Постійний стрес. Постійний страх, що щось трапиться. Постійна відповідальність. Я не можу розслабитися ані на хвилину. Прокидаюся серед ночі від кожного шуму. Не їжджу нікуди. Я не живу — я існую. Я не донька — я сидЯ вже не пам’ятаю, коли востаннє почувала себе просто людиною, а не доглядальницею.

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