Motherless This Mother's Day and Glad About It

Think of me what you will, but the truth I am going to tell is that my mother was a real piece-of-work. It wasn't totally her fault - she was formally diagnosed with bi-polar disorder (manic depression), obsessive-compulsive disorder, narcissism, and borderline personality disorder back in 1998. Any one of these mental health issues would be a lot to handle (for the person and their family), but the combination of these made her absolutely horrendous to deal with and simply impossible to like, never mind love.

I better understood her and the intractability of what I was dealing with when I read "People of the Lie" by Dr. M. Scott Peck. If you have someone in your family or life who is making you feel as if YOU are the crazy one, you need to read this book (you can also read the basic premise and outline of the book on Wikipedia; Dr. Peck was advocating for a psychiatric definition and diagnosis of a form of personality "evil". Sounds pretty strong, but for those of you who have lived with this kind of "evil" you will get what he's talking about).

When I read the Harry Potter series, I came across the description of "Dementors" - the guards of the Azkhaban Prison. The very presence of these wraiths simply sucked the life and soul right out of anyone. I suspect author J.K. Rowling had experiences in her life with people like my mother!

While my sister and I were growing up, we came to realize how selfish and self absorbed Mom was but, society constantly reminds you she's your mother and you are expected to love her and care for her, simply because she gave you life, and you must make all necessary sacrifices. I can assure you, my mother made no sacrifices for her family. She came first in everything. I came to realize she was incapable of putting anyone's feelings or wants ahead of her own (unless there was something in it for her).

My father died of cancer back in 1995 at the age of 63. He had been my mother's "keeper", the stress of which I believe led to his early demise. After his death, "keeper" duty fell to me, as the only child living in the same city as Mom. I have one sister (I call her "Gigi" on this blog) but she'd purposely lived 3,000 km away from our mother for decades. Gigi rarely visited and really could not grasp our mother's ensuing decline.

Fast forward to January 2009 when, at 76, Mom had a stroke, wound up partially paralyzed and unable to live on her own any more. Now she was both mentally AND physically ill, and dealing with her and her health care and nursing needs all fell to me. It was made all the more difficult because she alienated everyone in the health care system she came into contact with.

I felt a lot of guilt because, after a few months, I came to deeply resent the drain on my time, energy, emotions and mental health. And, aside from the lingering effects of the stroke, my mother was pretty physically healthy, so I knew I could be looking at a long 10-15 years of dancing attendance on her in the nursing home.

The conventional wisdom is that when parents are aging and failing, you step up gladly and assume the responsibility because of all they did for you when you were a child. The assumption is you should be glad for the opportunity to show them the same patient, loving care and attention and unconditional support that they gave to you. But, what if you didn't get any of that from your parents? What if they have no "parental credit" in your bank to draw on?

Further, it is not an apples-to-apples comparison (child care to elder care). the fact is parents have the assurance of knowing things will get better - the child will soon be out of diapers and able to do more for herself with every passing day, week and month. Kids are really only highly dependent on parents for the first 4-5 years of their life.

However, it is the exact opposite with caring for aging parents. Things will only get worse - you have nothing to look forward to (except them dying - yes, we get to the point where we want them gone, admit it). They are only going to become sicker, more dependent, and more of a drain on you. Perhaps you can endure it better if you love your parent and feel they have really been there for you throughout your life. But, if you feel they have never been there for you, it's an unfair situation that I describe as "To those who have been given precious little, much will be required"!

I only had to suffer for a year. In January 2010, my mother accidentally set herself on fire with a Christmas candle in the nursing home and died. Grisly. Unbelievable. I would never have wished such a thing on her. But, as Mother's Day approaches, I do feel released from the 51 year sentence that bound me to her out of obligation.

Todo bien. (It's all good).