As I get older, I more firmly believe that objectivity does not exist. What I write about my mother is coloured by my relationship with her, my position as the oldest child, the rest of my life. In trying to understand why my mother’s old age is playing out this way, I defer to my sister, Cris, who has spent far more time with our mother over the years, and therefore has a much clearer, more intimate understanding. She can connect the dots more authoritatively and specifically than I can. I am so grateful to be on this evolving, often stressful, caregiving journey with her. We vent, brainstorm and encourage each other; her insights, support and sharing of the workload are necessary to being able to keep going.
This reflection was originally published in August 2022 at mariasmind.com. Most of what I wrote then continues to reflect our situation; our mother’s physical health has remained essentially the same, but her mental health is weakening. She still loves fresh carnations on the table facing her recliner. Alexa only lasted a short while. The old radio is back. Most worrisome, she takes increasingly less interest in the practical aspects of maintaining her home.
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