It’s hard to believe that a decade ago, I was blissfully unaware that Alzheimer’s disease was on the horizon, ready to alter my relationship with my mother forever.
On Mother’s Day in 2010, I found myself seated across from my mother at a posh seafood brunch in downtown Chicago. At that time, I was a single mom with a two-year-old daughter, navigating life in the Loop. My mother would take the train from Indiana every Friday to spend precious time with her granddaughter and help ease the burden of daycare costs.
For this particular Mother’s Day weekend, I invited her to stay through Sunday. The thought of having her all to myself was simply too good to resist. I had budgeted for a babysitter and decided to treat her to brunch at Shaw’s Crab House, one of our favorite eateries. I had been eager to experience Shaw’s famed Sunday morning brunch, and this felt like the perfect occasion to do so with my mom.
As I glanced at her across the table, sipping coffee and enjoying the ambiance, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. I insisted on covering the brunch bill despite her protests, marking a significant shift in our dynamic. For the first time, we felt like peers.
Our relationship had never been particularly close during my childhood. While she was undoubtedly a caring mother, we lacked the connection that many of my friends shared with their moms. Topics like boys, relationships, and my struggles with friends were rarely discussed. I remember purchasing my prom dress on a whim with my own money, only to be met with her surprise when she saw it, exclaiming, “I wanted to help you pick that out!”
By 2010, as my friends seemed to drift away from their mothers, I felt that my mom and I were finally on the brink of forging a meaningful bond. But, as life often does, it took a sudden turn.
The Cognitive Decline
I first noticed something was amiss during a visit in 2014, shortly after the birth of my youngest daughter. By then, I had relocated to Florida, married, and had five children in total. My mother appeared different—irritable and distant, struggling to engage with my kids. On one occasion, she even got lost while walking with my youngest child.
As I continued to observe her behavior during subsequent visits, I grew increasingly concerned but had a hard time discussing it with my father.
In 2016, a work project took me to San Francisco, and my mom flew in to help my husband with the kids. By the first day of my trip, I received a text from him saying that she was showing signs of confusion, repeatedly asking when she would be going home. She even sat with her suitcase in the living room, waiting for my dad to “pick her up.”
When I returned, I found her even less engaged with my children, leaving them confused and disappointed. It would take another three years before we officially received her Alzheimer’s diagnosis. While it was painful, having a name for her condition provided some relief as we could finally focus on treatment and education.
Coming to Grips with Alzheimer’s
As I delved deeper into research about Alzheimer’s, I quickly realized how limited my understanding had been. I learned that Alzheimer’s is a specific type of dementia, not the only one. What shocked me further was the realization that Alzheimer’s can be fatal; it is the sixth leading cause of death in the U.S. More people die from Alzheimer’s than from breast and prostate cancers combined.
By 2050, over 13 million Americans are expected to live with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia. While some healthy individuals can survive for up to 20 years after diagnosis, the disease gradually degrades the brain, ultimately leading to death. My mother, diagnosed at just 65, may have been struggling with this disease for years without us knowing.
The stark truth is that Alzheimer’s is not simply a thief of memories; it can take lives.
Reflections on My Future
Now, knowing that my mother has dementia—like her own mother did—fills me with dread. I often wonder how much time I have before this disease could impact me. Studies suggest that high stress in middle age might trigger early stages of Alzheimer’s, while others find that coffee can help stave it off. There’s no definitive answer for prevention, and certainly no cure.
I find myself reflecting on my life’s work. Will I have the cognitive ability to see my grandchildren grow up? Will I finish the projects I’ve started? I’ve started to prioritize my health and well-being—eating better, exercising, and focusing on meaningful moments with family. I say “I love you” and “I’m sorry” more often, and I practice gratitude through journaling.
I fight for the chance to know my future grandchildren, and I’m determined to make the most of the time I have left with my mom. While she seems happier on medication, our family is learning to navigate this new normal, each of us grieving the future we had envisioned but may never see.
In this grief, I’ve found clarity. Time is fleeting, and each moment matters. Now is when I need to express my feelings, write my thoughts, and prioritize my health, because this moment is precious.
For anyone facing similar challenges, resources like ACOG can provide valuable insights into health and well-being. If you’re interested in exploring home insemination options, check out Make a Mom, which offers expert guidance. Additionally, consider supporting us at Home Insemination Kit to stay engaged with important discussions.
Summary: This article reflects on the emotional journey of a woman dealing with her mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, exploring the loss of their relationship and the impact of the disease. It highlights the importance of cherishing time and pursuing health, while also emphasizing the need for resources and education surrounding Alzheimer’s.