In my piece “Faulty Connection”, which I posted this past June, I touched upon the step-by-step instruction lists I created to help Mom use the mobile phone and the TV remote control.
In my brother Chris’ perspective of “Role Reversal”, he reflected upon our mother being “no less than a ‘soulmate’ during (his) childhood and adult life”, and that he “could confide in her about almost anything”. I can certainly underscore my brother’s remarks. For many years, I too talked to Mom about a wide variety of topics that ranged from plans for advanced studies to jobs (and job searches), to boyfriends…you name it.
During the last four years, I have witnessed the slow, but steady decline in my mother’s cognitive abilities. Although this has been a difficult process, I am relieved that Mom’s mood swings have essentially become non-existent. Her mood swings were no “piece of cake”. In fact, they were energy consuming and emotionally draining.
However, what I’m now facing is equally “no piece of cake”. To put it bluntly, I have lost my mother as a “soulmate” and “sparring partner”. Mom is still Mom, and I cherish the time I’m being given to spend with her. At the same time, the days when I shared my thoughts with Mom, discussed political and social issues with her, or simply sought her advice, are over. Moreover, these days will never return. That’s the hardest part of all.
My conversations with Mom have been reduced to talking about the weather, or hearing about what she ate, or listening to Mom tell me about her putting together photo albums for “the kids”…I don’t know which kids…and that the albums are extremely heavy and difficult to bring to “the kids”.
The picture that enters my mind is the “connect the dots” type of puzzle - like the one below - that I enjoyed playing as a kid.
When I now talk to Mom, there are a lot of dots. However, neither can the dots be connected nor do they create a picture that is recognizable. This is yet another manifestation of role reversal.
When I was growing up, it was implicit what a “parent-child” relationship signified. My parents loved me, provided for me, and made sure I had what they felt I needed to “make it on my own” someday.
For that, I am eternally grateful. When I became an adult, I knew I was no longer a child, but I still remained my parents’ child.
Now it feels like Mom is the child, and I am the parent. I am indeed Mom’s proxy, but that’s not what I’m talking about. What I am talking about is the realization that Mom is no longer my mother on an emotional and social level.
For example, I no longer say to my mother, “Mom, Marius and I will visit you this coming weekend”, because I know Mom can no longer differentiate one day from another. So instead, I’ve learned to say, “Mom, you will sleep two more times, and then Marius and I will be with you”. Mom may still not recognize when she has slept two times as opposed to once, or three times. I don’t want to treat Mom like a child, or make her feel stupid. At the same time, I’ve found keeping things simple keeps the line of communication between Mom and me, as well as our relationship, alive!
When I recently took a look at my photo albums, I came across this photo of Mom and me, which Dad took of us.
For me, this photo sums up what I’ve written about in this newsletter.
When I was 4-years old, Mom held my hand. Now it’s my turn to hold hers!
These “simple” experiences have taught me the following:
The realization that your loved one is no longer an “equal” is a tough pill to swallow. Make sure you surround yourself with other loved ones and friends who can help fill the void.
Don’t feel you’re being disrespectful by talking to your loved one using “simple language”. If this helps your loved one understand you, then do it!
If you’re feeling down, please reach out to someone, or document your thoughts. It won’t change the situation, but I’ve found that writing helps me reflect upon and remember the joyful moments and to cope with the pain and uncertainty that come with witnessing someone you love slipping away.
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Thank you for another beautiful newsletter, Jackie! I love the photo, and I also love the "connect the dots" comparison! Your insights are so helpful to us all!
You've done it again, Jackie. For some reason, this is my favorite column of Role Reversal. Not that it's a competition, but what you said her really brought the experiences with your mother to light. Maybe it's the idea of keeping things simple that helped it make perfect sense. You also fully expressed the realization that the mom you've known, loved and depended on all your life is gone and won't be returning. That, I must imagine, is the hardest. Thanks for sharing this with us!