Mom turned ninety-three yesterday. Her face brightened when I said, “生日快樂,” over FaceTime. She was very pleased to have reached another milestone. I wasn’t as successful to keep her engaged in our conversation.
In the last few years, dementia has gradually taken her further and further away from us. The changes were subtle in the onset. As time goes by, it becomes more and more pronounced.
Strong-willed, mom was not always the easiest person to be around. Declining mental capacity softened her characters. On a good day, there can be such a sweet aura surrounding her. She smiles, makes small talks and genuinely cares about everyone in her life. On a bad day, any little thing can stir up fears in her. She turns inward emotionally and physically—slipping away right in front of us.
Three replacement surgeries on her left knee took a toll on mom’s mobility. After her first operation, she recovered fully; traveled around the world and hiked up mountains with her photography club. The second one took place after her last visit to the State, moving to New York with me in 2002. She was still going strong: living alone, exercising in the morning, getting groceries on her own and, occasionally, outings with friends.
Early 2014, I got an urgent message from Robert, saying that mom had a bad infection around her joints. The doctors removed the old artificial joints and secured her leg in cast temporarily to cure the inflammation. For weeks, she wasn’t able to use her left leg at all. I went home to help her getting used to a new, yet temporary, routine.
Both Robert and I were hoping that things would go back to normal after the last procedure. Perhaps because of mom’s age, doctor didn’t order rehabilitation for her. We asked again during return visits. Still no help.
Robert moved mom to an apartment near him. We set things up, so mom wouldn’t have problem getting around. Robert made sure there were plenty supplies, so she could be alone from time to time.
What we were not expecting was the deterioration of her mental health. Looking back, there were signs of her losing track of things. Yet, everyone forgets sometimes. Her exercise buddies told me that she lost her way to their usual gathering spot one morning. But, it was a one-time incident. Mom took Buddhist vow in the 90s. For years, she read scriptures for long hours daily. Gradually, her practices shortened. I didn’t realize at the time that it might have become more and more difficult for her to read. She started shredding photos from her old trips. I thought that she was decluttering. Was it that she couldn’t remember the trips and the photos were troubling her?
After we moved away, mom continued to live in our old house alone. She was never a good communicator. Making things worse, she always thought that it was a shame to complain or to show signs of weakness. Now that we know what mom is going through and what she needs, all we can do is making sure that she is physically well and happy.
Happy Birthday, Mom!