Having The Last Word.

I grew up in a family where having the last word was an art form. My Mom and I battled for the best last word award constantly as soon as I was old enough to play the game. Man, (as my Dad would say) we could go at it. We one-upped each other for decades. When it became obvious that my Mom had dementia and I needed to step up and care for her, I was so unprepared for my new role. I googled myself silly about the disease and caregiving, read as much as I could, and spoke often to those I knew had been through a similar experience. None of which prepared me for the changes I had to make in my attitude and life to become a caregiver Warrior. The biggest change and most challenging thing for me was how I interacted with my Mom. After years of certain behavior and habit, we were really stuck in a dance that didn’t serve us well when we were healthy and most certainly didn’t do us any good now that she was suffering from this vicious disease. Re-thinking my behavior and letting go of all the old baggage, resentments and need to argue was so challenging and yet one of the greatest gifts I was given from my caregiving experience. It all began when I stopped trying once and for all, to have the last word. Dementia and Alzheimer’s are most cruel when they allow someone to appear like their normal, familiar selves one day then strangers the next. It was these moments of clarity and normalcy that confused and tested me. My Mom would suddenly seem perfectly fine and begin to resort to her old competitive self and I had to remain firm in my attempt to communicate in a more gracious, pleasant way no matter how she was feeling. I tried to remain soft and listen to her views and what she had to say without butting in or feeling the need to add something. As I got better at listening and not fighting her for the last word, there was a big shift in our relationship. I got softer and more attentive and she became more relaxed. When she did have those moments of clarity we got along better and when she wasn’t as clear or focused communication was easier because I truly listened rather than demand being heard. When it wasn’t all about me it could be about her. I’ll never know if our relationship would have changed as drastically as it did had I not been blessed with the opportunity to be her caregiver. I do know that I was lucky enough to be able to see what changes I needed to make and have the strength to make them. Caring for my mom allowed me to learn so much about my self and my ability to re-write my life. So even as my Mom struggled with Dementia she was teaching me lessons. So I guess she really did end up having the last word after all!