Nobody ever told me there would be days like this

Having a rough day. People talk about parenting their parents, but that really isn't a good description.

Although I never had the blessing of having a child, I do know that the experience is full of wonder and firsts. The first step, the first word, the first laugh, even the first poop, are all reasons for laughter and celebration.

But dealing with an elderly parent is all of those things in reverse. The last word, the last step, the last laugh.

It's been 5 or 6 years since my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers. It feels like it has been a lifetime. And she is still relatively okay, compared to many of the other people in the dementia wing of the nursing home. She knows who I am and she doesn't talk to inanimate objects and she isn't hostile.

In fact, she is always thrilled to see me. Too thrilled, really. Even when she was in her right mind, I always felt that I was responsible for her happiness. She always wanted me to come see her and brighten up her day.

When she was in assisted living and still had her own phone, she called me non-stop. and I MEAN non-stop, because as soon as she hung up the phone, she would forget that she had called and she would call again.

Now she is in a nursing home and she spends at least 80% of her time in bed. Not because she is sick or HAS to be bed ridden. She just wants to be in bed. The only time she will get out of bed, as far as I can tell, is when I go see her. So again, the burden for her happiness and for any joy she has in life is on me.

And quite frankly, I can't handle that responsibility most of the time.

The depression associated with watching her deteriorate is oppressive. It weighs me down. I find myself on the verge of tears almost all the time.

I had my moods under control for a good two years, until this new thing came up. Now she is losing her eyesight. She knows she can't see well but her mind is past the point of understanding why. So I have to make the decision about whether to put her through eye surgery or not.

The doctors think the eye surgery is the best answer. If she loses her sight, they say, there is too much risk that she will fall and hurt herself.

Besides, seeing me, seeing the sky, seeing flowers, seeing other people smile -- that is about all she has left.

I had to take her to a cardiologist last week to get medical approval for the surgery. He said it is high risk, but he still thinks she should have it. Today I need to take her to have her eyes measured for the surgery.

All of these trips just make me want to cry. It's not easy taking her anywhere. And now with her vision going she just keeps asking me over and over if everything is dark or is it just her?

She's as gentle and sweet as can be right now. More than she has been in her entire life. Which of course, doesn't make it any easier. I feel sorrier for her. I want to help her. Want to protect her. And of course, I can't.

For the past 5 or 6 years I have gone to see her 2 or 3 times a week. But the visits are becoming more and more depressing and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to be a good daughter and keep going and not just lose every ounce of happiness that was once in me.

Will I get it back some day? Will this huge, oppressive dark weight be lifted from me at some point? I really don't want to take anti-depressants. And I don't want to have to rely on alcohol or anything else to numb my feelings. But I just don't know what the secret is to coping with something like this.

How do I not let the sadness overcome my own personality and affect all of my other relationships?