It’d been hard, and now it’s done, but, the memories, they’d, stayed, the burdens of, the primary caretaker of the demented elderly, it’s, NEVER easy, being, the primary caretaker, translated…
I actually felt, a bit, relieved, after she’d gone, but, I didn’t have the courage, to tell it to anybody, no matter if it was my husband, or, my younger sister, whom I’d, never kept any secrets from.
My mother’s funeral was at the end of springtime, the obituary wrote she was, eighty-eight. My mother had, a long life, but, it was, as a psychic told her, although she has a long time, it wasn’t, a good life.
Because my mother didn’t get along well with my sister-in-law, she was, forced to move out, and in with me. After a very long time, I’d, finally understood, how her pains were, from her own, personality characteristics.
She couldn’t read, being traditional, she followed the rules of patriarchy, although she’d treated the three of us exactly the same, she’d, only had my eldest brother on her mind constantly, and yet, her son, rarely, comes to visit her.
She’d not had any major illnesses her whole life, other than the hip joints deteriorating away with age, had surgeries, Alzheimer’s was, also the lesson that accompanied her elderly years. We were, grateful for the T.V. news reports, and, knowing the illness early, the medications gave her seven years of, lucidity, and, during those seven years, other than the mix-and-matches of her memories, mostly, she’d, lived on, well off, had schedules to follow, and when the time came, she’d, sat in front of the T.V. We’d, hired a couple of Indonesian nurse’s aides for her, other than complaining about the help being uncleanly, and lazy, they’d, gotten along okay.
My mother lived with me, but, I wonder, if, I didn’t have, enough, of an affinity with her. Or, maybe, she’s, like a lot of parents, who’d, picked on the children who looked after them? Every time my eldest brother or younger sister visited, she’d, always counted what I did which was, awful to her. My heart felt cold, but, I’d, pretended not to care.
Later, my mother had an accidental trip and fall in the living room, suffered a stroke, the doctor suggested us put her into a nursing home, that was when I’d told my siblings, I couldn’t, take it anymore! I can’t take care of her, have her, call me, cruel then! Judge me for not fulfilling the duties of filial piety if she wanted to! There’d been, many nights I’d wondered, why is it, that my heart of looking after her, wasn’t, appreciated, by her at all, perhaps, I’d owed her too much in a previous life?
At the start of the year there was, some phlegm that got stuck in my mother’s throat, and by the time we’d, found her, my mother already, died. I didn’t cry on her funeral, but I’d, still felt, sad, we’d spent our lifetimes, as mother and daughter, I really do hope, we won’t, meet back up again, in the next life.
And so, this, is generally the situation, the child whom the parents lived with, is always, the least appreciated, and, in Chinese belief, maybe, the child, owed the parents in a previous life, but, it has nothing to do with it, it’s just, the progressions of dementia, it turns your elders into, complete strangers, you don’t even recognize anymore.