It Took Alzheimer’s For Me To Understand My Mother
Knowing her better makes her easier to love.
I couldn’t have been more wrong…
I thought Alzheimer’s had stolen every morsel of meaning from my mother’s life. In fact, even as this insidious brain bandit continues to purloin her ability to reason, her reason for living has actually come into clearer focus. And, now that she is no longer inhibited by the will of a dominant partner — Dad died two months ago, just shy of their 73rd wedding anniversary — Mom is even more razor-sharp focused on what she’s always been convinced she was born to do: saving the world, all by herself.
And, woe be it to anyone she sees standing in her way — including and especially me, her septuagenarian firstborn son and the person most responsible for her safety and well-being.
Although Mom was more educated and talented, Dad controlled the agenda. It’s not that he intentionally discouraged her from pursuing her own interests. But, in post-World War II America, it was taken for granted: a man’s ambitions took priority. Her dream was to join the Navy and sail the globe. Getting hitched put the kibosh on those plans. When she became pregnant with me, Mom had just received her certification as a registered nurse. My arrival snipped that ambition in the bud, before it even had a chance. Over the next 27 years…
