“I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on another level of being.” – Anna Kamieńska
When we consider missed connections, we often think about fleeting encounters with individuals who briefly entered our lives. We envision how some of these chance meetings could have blossomed into friendships or romances under different circumstances. For me, however, the notion of a missed connection is deeply rooted in my relationship with my mom and a lingering regret that shadows my heart.
On the surface, it might seem unusual to view my mother as a missed connection. We are not estranged; we have a close bond despite our differences. Yet, the missed connection I’m referring to occurred about seven years ago, shortly after she received her diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer’s disease—a pivotal moment I can never reclaim.
My friend, Lila, lost her father to Alzheimer’s eight years ago. Our experiences bear striking similarities, and it’s comforting to share my thoughts with someone who understands. Lila possesses a cherished memory that I will always yearn for. She recalls a poignant beach walk with her father shortly after his diagnosis. He expressed his love for her, shared his pride in her, and warned her there would come a day when he would forget her name—but assured her that she would always remain in his heart. That conversation is my missed connection.
When my mom received her diagnosis, we made the decision not to mention the “A-word.” Both her parents had suffered from Alzheimer’s, and we understood the weight of that reality. Initially, it felt as though a veil of shame enveloped our family. We kept the diagnosis under wraps, wishing to avoid sympathy and protect Mom from distressing conversations.
Over time, I have come to realize that the best way to navigate difficult emotions is to confront them head-on. Avoiding painful topics only deepens the wounds. However, at that time, I was overwhelmed. We had just lost my husband’s mother in a tragic accident, and my father was grappling with the looming loss of his wife. I was in survival mode, focused on my grieving husband and young children. I thought it best to bury my own sadness and keep things light-hearted.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months without a single conversation about Mom’s diagnosis. We pretended everything was fine. Living in Colorado, our communication relied on emails, texts, and phone calls. I could hear the anxiety in her voice and feel her heartbreak when she left her beloved teaching job. She did a remarkable job of hiding her sorrow from my children. Our time together was dwindling, and we all tried to make the most of it without addressing the elephant in the room.
Then, one day, Mom no longer remembered my name. It was the moment Lila’s father had warned her would come. I always knew my mom loved me and was proud of me; she told me frequently while she could still express it. But we never had that crucial conversation. Now, my interactions with her consist mainly of directives: “Eat this.” “Let’s go to the bathroom.” “Put that down.” It’s communication, but it lacks the depth of what I longed for. We missed that connection.
I try not to dwell on this lost opportunity; instead, I consider it a final lesson from my mother: “Seize the moment, Jaime. Don’t shy away from discomfort. Approach it with an open heart.” I understand we were merely trying to shield her from pain, but hindsight is always clearer. I want her to know that I received the message loud and clear. Most people would describe me as someone who lives authentically—I’m an open book, embracing the beautiful chaos of life.
Kintsukuroi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, transforms imperfections into beauty. Perhaps missed connections can be approached similarly. I carry significant cracks from regret and sorrow, but I will endeavor to fill them with love and lessons learned from my journey. It may be messy. It may be awkward. But don’t wait. Speak your love, share your fears, and express your regrets. Always choose to have those important conversations.
For more insights on navigating life’s complexities, check out this related post on missed connections. Additionally, if you’re considering starting a family, you might find helpful resources on fertility options at Make a Mom and Parents.
Summary
This reflection on missed connections delves into the author’s relationship with her mother amidst the challenges of Alzheimer’s disease. It emphasizes the importance of confronting difficult conversations before it’s too late, showcasing how unspoken words can lead to lasting regrets. The piece encourages readers to embrace open dialogue about love, fears, and emotions.