Dementia saved my relationship with mum

Growing up I always had a loving relationship with my mum; she was fun, warm and caring.  Until I became a teenager when unfortunately, my relationship with mum went south, perhaps like many teenage daughters and their mothers.  I am not proud of this and even into my early thirties I struggled with our relationship.  It was complex, mainly due to mum’s old-fashioned view of life, family dynamics, and I thought the grass was greener on the other side. 

I therefore found dealing with mum’s dementia much harder than with dad.  I had even more anger and resentment towards her, and I would often end up in tears.  Tears of sadness knowing how much I hated how it was and how much I wanted our relationship to change.  My husband used to say to me “your mum is just a little old lady who is afraid and struggling with her dementia”.  I used to think “what does he know?”. 

It was Jane Verity from Spark of Life who finally give me clarity and understanding into what my husband was saying.  I have since apologised to him because he was indeed correct!  I had to be willing to look at myself, as well as see the world through mum’s eyes, otherwise I knew our relationship would keep going south.  In the beginning I was only capable of thinking about how I may feel or react in mum’s situation.  In doing so I was finally able to start finding understanding and compassion for her.  Change slowly happened; I would say it took about 3 years before I was able to truly connect with mum and embrace her for who she was.

As mum’s dementia progressed it gave her priceless gifts.  It revealed her true self, she became freer, more confident and she let her joyous light shine.  Parts of her that I had not often seen.  She also lost the ability to remember things in life that had caused her bitterness and resentment.  All of which enabled deeper and more profound and precious connection and relationships with me, the rest of the family and those around her.  And her relationship with dad was the closest it had ever been.  

Her ‘wacky Swiss humour’ became more apparent and made everyone laugh; her favourite saying was “you’ve been so naughty and I have to spank you”.  She would proceed to smack your bottom regardless of whether you were family, the dentist or the doctor!  We used to joke with her dentist that we’d give her a wooden spoon so she could chase him around the room with it!

In mum’s latter years of living with dementia, I became very close to her and I found emotional healing and connection that I never thought I would have.  Thank you mum for all your openness, kindness, authenticity and love that shone so brightly, all of which I still miss terribly.