Some days I wonder what happened to the woman who used to dream so fearlessly.
I am 57 years old.
Thirty-one years ago, I left the comfort of my home and career in China to pursue the American Dream.
Today I clean the urine leaking from my ex-husband’s catheter bag. I call my 85-year-old mother in China, quietly biting my tongue as she complains about her aches and pains from Parkinson’s. I FaceTime my 25-year-old son to let him know his mom is still cheering him on.
I am out and about all day checking on rental homes I manage, meeting clients and their expectations, cajoling anxious vendors, and interviewing potential applicants.
By day’s end I am a basket case.
My second shift starts the moment I get home: cooking dinner, preparing meals for the next day, cleaning, putting my ex to bed, and finishing paperwork for my business.
My home looks like a cross between an assisted living facility and an infirmary because of his Alzheimer’s.
Five short years ago, Mike was an active 75-year-old who could carry on conversations, drive, and live independently. Today, he stops in the kitchen and opens every drawer looking for silverware. He can’t remember what happened thirty seconds ago. He can no longer hold a conversation, struggling to find the simplest words.
Sometimes he holds his shirt upside down and stares at it, no longer knowing how to dress himself.
I look into his eyes and watch the spark of kindness and intelligence slowly fade. I reach out to him only to find him retreating further and further away.
Alzheimer’s doesn’t steal Mike all at once. It creeps. It seeps. It eats. It chips away.
Small pieces disappear, one at a time.
And I am losing one small piece at a time too.
Was it a mistake for me to take him in five years ago?
Five years before that, he wanted to retire and I didn’t. After the divorce, I built a successful company with my bare hands. When I found out he was stumbling on his own in Arizona, I invited him back to San Diego to live in the new home I had purchased so he could spend more time with his son.
Now I feel trapped.
Some days I want to scream. Other days I want to run.
I feel suffocated by this obligation.
And then the guilt arrives.
What kind of person even thinks that?
That’s why I started to write.
The young woman who crossed the Pacific Ocean in search of the American Dream thirty-one years ago is still there. She may be covered in dust and long forgotten, but she has been walking beside me all these years—silently, firmly, and patiently waiting for me to find her again.
I imagine a day will come when I look back on this experience with a degree of pride.
But today is not that day.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.
But I do know this:
I don’t want Alzheimer’s to take away two lives.
Diane, that is so sweet of you to take the time to write such a thoughtful message. Thank you!
I have been a pretty private person for as long as I can remember. For years, I dealt with my personal struggles quietly and kept most things to myself.
But Alzheimer’s is taking me apart in ways I never expected, and sometimes I feel like I am losing control. That is one of the reasons I started writing down what I am really feeling.
Through writing, I am also discovering that I have more strength, patience, and endurance than I ever thought possible. I know eventually I will need all of them to face whatever Alzheimer’s has waiting for us down the road.
Thank you for reminding me that maybe my younger self would have believed I could handle this too. That means a lot to me.
Thanks again!
Rose, I don’t think we’ve met, but you are a great writer and I always enjoy your email updates. Your ex is lucky to have you for however long you can keep up with him, and when the time comes when he needs more help than you can offer, you’ll know… and he probably won’t. And it will be okay! I’m sure your time and energy is appreciated by your son. It is amazing how time flies and health is fleeting. Take care of yourself and be proud of your generous spirit. Your younger self may not have expected this turn of events but she would no doubt imagine she could handle anything! And she’s right again!