In that the first anniversary of Mom's death is four days away, I've been re-reading my blog from the beginning. It's very eerie. The first year after I retired was pure hell. If I wasn't cleaning her up, putting her on and taking her off the toilet, or dealing with sitters and doctor's appointments, my heart was hurting from the pain caused by her awareness of the situation. And strangely, while I was also dealing with some severe dog issues, I have absolutely no memory of them. Actually, that whole year before I had to put her in a nursing home, is a bit of a blur. Knowing full well how squeamish I am in situations caused by the malfunction of bodily functions (of which there were many), I'm amazed I survived it. But I'm happy I did and in hindsight, I wouldn't have done one thing differently. That provides my greatest comfort.