Tonight she is pissed because I didn't cook the beans and make her drink when she came in from the garden. I spent the afternoon writing. I felt like a person for a little while. She spent the afternoon in her garden. Now I feel like I'm in shit for taking time to have my own life.

She complains that she can't look after the garden herself any more. She used to say when she couldn't look after her garden herself she would sell the house and do something else. Not sure what. I've stayed living with her for more of my life than I have had to myself. I'm almost 61 now, divorced, no children, no future.

Now she's snippy about how she will just make her drink herself and cook the beans herself. I just left her to do it. I don't want her to lose what she loves for however much time she has left. She's 81. I imagine it must be hard to be coming to the end of your years, feeling less able to do everything you used to do. I try to be good, patient, and helpful. But, its every day, every waking hour. I've come to dislike the time I need to spend sleeping.

Even when my brother takes care of her in Florida for a few months, he leaves and has time without her. Here or in Florida, he has time for his own life. I don't. I have two younger sisters who talk to her on the phone, when they want to.

I may not really have a life any more but I'm feeling angry that I have to feel guilty or bad for having a few hours to do something I like to do by myself. I used to think my life would be easier if I had a lobotomy, or could be a robot. I still feel the same way, 50 years later. This isn't a life and I'm tired of whatever this is.

She says I should be glad to give her time/help in her last years. I don't begrudge helping her really. But, what if I die first? Do I get some kind of rebate for all these years? No, I'll just be dead.