On the darker side of caring for her demented elderly mother, when her mother’s death became, a total, relief for her, translated…
Thumbing across the article, “Behind Long-Term Care” by Grass Liu on January 19th, it’d, reminded me of my own situation.
From when my mother was first diagnosed with slight dementia, I’d taken her out, she’d become like a child, looked around, and as she saw the snacks on the shelves, she’d told me she wanted some. I’d thought, that taking care of her was going to be exactly like taking care of a young child. But slowly, I’d found that it’s, quite different. Watching a young child grow, you’d feel the joys watching her/him mature, it’s a bright sort of a hope, while taking care of the elderly, it’s, this sense of helplessness, watching them deteriorate away each and every day, and there’s, nothing we can do.
being accusatory…
photo from online
To the later stages, because of the severity of my mother’s dementia and her loss of muscles, it’d affected her mobility, she was falling into constant chaos often, she’d cried out in pain by the nights, and, it’d gotten her neighbors’ coming over to see what was going on with her. As I’d asked why she’d cried loud? She’d said to me, “It’s a habit of sorts.” She’d become, a totally different person compared to when she was first diagnosed, and had often started, calling me names too, blamed me for moving too slowly, as the pharmacy called for the pick up of her medications, she’d called me a chatty bitch, and all she did was, carry on in conversations with others………………
While the smallest matters of life became like those firecrackers, ready to be lit up at any moment, and she’d started, cussing out in long sentences at a tie at me. Toward those name-calling, cusses, I can only, hold it all in and tolerate her, because, how can I, reason with someone who’s, already, demented? I’d often wondered, is that thin as skins-and-bones, human being who constantly ranted unreasonably, my mother? She was once, so kind, so understanding to others from before! And, as I squatted down on the bathroom floors, cleaning up her mess, was that me, who was, once, a cherished child of hers? She’d once pointed proudly at me, told her coworkers, “this is the only beautiful baby in my home”, and now, that beautiful baby turned into, an insomniac.
I’d tried fling for a caretaker for her, but, there was, a waiting period of six months, and, before the caretaker was assigned to us, my mother, passed. Maybe, it was because how I’d not lived up to my filial piety duties as her offspring, the day after she’d died, I’d gone into the shrine, and felt, my shoulders which had, turned so stiff and hard, light. After all, no matter how deep the connections, it just, can’t withstand, the long-term, constant, wear and tear. But I’m still, grateful to my mother, for teaching me about old age using her life, so I can prepare myself beforehand. As for all the moments of anger, pain, sorrows, I shall just, allow them, to perish, with the flames then……………
with the pieces of the puzzle going missing, one by one…photo from online
And so, this, is how it’d tried this, primary caretaker, her mother who had always been kind, gentle, and mild tempered, after dementia took over, she’d, become this, whole other person, and it’d, tried the daughter who was her primary caretaker, and, the daughter attempted to understand, how her own mother can be so very, different, compared to before, and she was still, trying to comprehend what had happened in her mother’s old age, then her mother passed, and she’d, let go…
Life, the Obstacle Course 