An Ode to my Mother

When a loved one is diagnosed with Dementia, life changes forever. The future that was is gone, and all that is to come an unknown but downhill journey. For the caretaker, the years ahead are a journey harder than a winter climb to the top of Mount Everest.

The initial reaction to an Alzheimer’s Disease diagnosis is the shock. Even disbelief. How can this be true? There must be another reason for the spells of forgetfulness and the slight change in their personality.

For the caretaker, the shock is dual and the grief too. The caretakers are often a spouse or a close family member to the patient. In the case of my father, the caretaker is my mother. As the years have passed, the weight of her role on this journey becomes increasingly heavier. She has less and less space to attend events or travel — even short distances — in good conscience.

He is a gentle man with a big heart and with her, he is vulnurable. He puts all his trust in her, the woman he had his children with, and the woman he didn’t always agree with in the political arena of life. It doesn’t matter anymore what political beliefs either one of them held back in the day. Every day is a repetition of the same ritualistic tasks, a rigid routine that is familiar in his habitual world and he feels safe with her in their little world.

I have just returned from a family holiday in Sardinia. I have had a magical evening with my family, watching my daughter discover Peter Pan, spending time with my sister and her family, watching our daughters…