I don't think of myself as wildly impatient, but I have been experiencing myself this way of late.
I don't think I was made to be a caretaker of the elderly.
I try to be compassionate with myself -- I am grieving, too, for my siblings, but it is not like losing your children. I get that, but the rage my parents experience at not being able to do what they want or remember what they want to say is exasperating their grief.
I am unused to the fear that sounds like paranoia. I can stand back, sometimes -- mostly after I lose it, and see that they feel their control over their lives is like sand falling through their hands. It is not my fault that they are getting older, but I am the only available target ... and they know I won't leave.
Don't think I haven't been tempted.
I try but I lose my temper when they rage at me and tell me "no" to every little thing.
I try to be helpful and it feels alternately like it is not enough or too much.
This is the *easy* part of their old age. What will happen when they really need me to take care of them? Will they continue to resist or learn to trust?
Then there are my nieces and nephews also needing someone to help them through their grief.
Watching my nephew grasp at ways to express his feelings, I felt wholly helpless. I am living in that same frustration -- how do we find a safe place to express ourselves.
There are no words to soothe this pain for us as we wait impatiently for it to *get easier*.
I am exhausted. I am tired of feeling utterly unsuccessful at everything.
The tears gather in my eyes but won't fall. The pressure to hold it together makes my head hurt.
Tomorrow is another day, and maybe it will be better...