Day 15: Sometimes a gift really isn't

I was at my mom's on Sunday. Many of you know that she uses a wheelchair. What she really uses is some sort of stubborn combination of a wheelchair and walker. When I helped her clean out her bedroom a week ago, we managed to get rid of five or so bags of clothes that no longer fit her. I put her remaining sweaters and sweatshirts in her hopechest and was able to get rid of the rubbermaid that was holding the excess.
Turns out, however unsafe, my mother balanced herself on the rubbermaid when getting into bed.
So, I told her we would clear a path on the other side of the bed, which was wider, so she could use her walker or wheelchair to get into the bed.
On Sunday, I took on that task. I would have called it a gift, and I guess the result is the same, but when I left her house, I was so drained that I was just angry.
Both of my parents are horders. It kinda runs in my family. And the problem is compounded by the fact that my mom uses a wheelchair and cannot, necessarily get to the things she wants to throw away.
Having said all that, though, I know my hours and hours of work on Sunday will only last so long until the room is back to the mess I found it in.
It's frustrating.
So, my mom got a clear path to her bed. But, by the time I was done, it was not given in the giving spirit...I may have to add a day or two to the end of this experiment to make up for these kind of days.
Blessings