Thank you for this essay, Jody. These words of yours, "the part of her that has never stopped considering my body to be an extension of hers, and thus to be monitored at all times" jumped out at me, and your essay hooked me. With a 92 year old mother with dementia who is only 18 years older than me, I finally have a reprieve from her "owning" me, now there are no more critiques, just grateful acceptance. She always wanted to live vicariously through me, because her own life was so awful, and so now, ironically, she owns me, because I must take care of her. As an only surviving child of this woman who wanted several and lost 2 stillborns after me, there is no escaping my singularity in her life. She has no more extended family. As a survivor of the Holocaust she is a first-person witness who is part of a dwindling group. Her memories are now mine, even though I come by them too late, and there are no more details to be gleaned from her broken mind. Like you, I feel resentment has morphed into deep compassion. I also connect with your words about being "safer to approach her" due to the dementia. My mother became schizophrenic when I reached adulthood, and her illness made me wish I could disappear form her life -- I wanted her gone, she was that emotionally destructive. Dementia has redefined how I feel about her.
Dear Zeligova, thank you so much for sharing and I'm so sorry for the many and complex legacies of trauma that have woven through you and your mother's life together. There was a time when I was a young adult when I wished my mother was dead, so fierce was was my anger, heartbreak and grief at the experience of being her daughter... the day I realised that our relationship would never be over, even once she was dead, something shifted for me. Slowly, slowly, slowly I began to accept things as they were, and not as I wished they had been, or were at that time. I read somewhere 'that you can waste your whole life trying to have a happy childhood' and that really stayed with me. My mother had complex mental and physical health issues before the dementia too... Sending you and your mother love, tenderness and compassion as you navigate dementia together. You might be interested to come along to a free webinar I'm hosting on March 20th called 'Caring for the Caregiver' - the link is below. Hugs, Jody x
My mother is 76 and has dementia too. It is a heartbreaking disease.. My siblings and I have found ourselves grappling with our childhood since her diagnosis in 2020. To make it worse, our father is her caretaker, bringing us more issues. Like you are experiencing, we are also seeing a very sweet and gentle mother on the good days. We have a rule to keep the bad memories from swallowing us up-every time we have session of talking about our frustrations and past hurts, we bring up a happy memory about them at the end of the call. It's brought us immense relief. Thinking of you.
As they transform, new things become possible. But oh, the costs of that! Sending love to you, and to your father. My stepfather cared for my mother at home for a few years until it was no longer possible... his grieving began the moment she left home as he knew she would never be coming back... a heartbreaking illness for everyone. Big hugs xx
Thanks for sharing. This is hard to read when it mirrors so much of my relationship with my grandmother who took on the responsibility that my mother chose not to. But history of trying to raise a child with no resources had repeated between them. But the irony for caring for a parent with dementia is that you become and are the mother. Those caring skills instinctively kick in.
So beautiful Jody. Thank you for sharing this. My mother was always encouraging and never critical and it makes me realise how blessed I was for that, even though my childhood was full of fear because of an alcoholic father.
My mother, sadly had dementia (Alzheimers) too, also starting in her early 70's. So many people seem to in these days of longer lives and polluted environments. I recognise the descriptions you give about how your mum appears and how she can be receptive at times. It is all too sad, and my mum eventually did not recognise her children although I could see her trying so so hard to work out who I was and what I was saying.
I am so glad that you are able to reach some sort of equanimity with your mother before she dies.
Hi Lesley - thank you for taking the time to comment. I'm glad to hear that your mother was so supportive but what a huge toll it must have taken on your all because of alcoholism in the mix too... I grew up in a physically and emotionally unsafe home, and so did my Mum, and the intergenerational maternal legacy in our family seems pretty traumatic as far back as I can see...
I'm so sorry that your mother got to the stage where she didn't recognise you any longer... I'm dreading that stage as my mother is such a high-anxiety person anyway, I'm really worried how it will be for her... And yes, the numbers of people experiencing dementia does seem to be very high in our parent's generation, and so many more of them have children to look out for them... I think GenX and beyond are going to have transform eldercare if it is to meet our needs with any humanity... Hugs, Jody x
Thank you dear Maria. Life never seems to give up on offering us learning opportunities it seems, if we are willing to remain open to them! Or, as they say in one of my favourite Californian phrases 'AFOGs' - Another F***ing Opportunity for Growth :) xxxx
Thank you Jody. Your posts on your mother/daughter dynamic always resonate so much with me and you write about it so beautifully. My own mother/daughter relationship continues to be a painful journey for me but at least now I have an understanding of how truly awful and damaging my experience was and have the courage to articulate it. Through that process self compassion has also made an appearance. And the shift is thanks to amazing people like you who help to others to learn, grow and heal. X X
Dear Janice - I'm so sorry to hear what a tough time of it you've had, and are having. It's interesting that you mention self-compassion - I think had I not developed a self-compassion practice as part of my childlessness recovery (as I write about in my book, 'Living the Life Unexpected') I would not have been able to find it for my mother. It's weird how we fear 'self compassion' as being 'self indulgent navel gazing, yet it has been my experience that it has made me much more resilient and willing to do/feel the hard stuff in relationships, and life, too. Sending you, and your mother, much love, Jody x
Jody that was such a profoundly moving article it bought tears to my eyes. The mother daughter bond is such a complex, multifaceted thing. No one can wound you like the woman who gives you life. You can chase her approval all your life, and still feel like you are not good enough. I love the way you describe her, her physicality, her cruelty juxtaposed with a freshly found tenderness. And yet, you are learning now at this juncture how to understand this woman, shaped and formed by her own painful experiences. Sometimes people pass the pain on - they can't help it. Iove the photos. Your mother can't be all bad Jody, she made you and you hold so much beauty in your soul. X
Thank you so much Susan and your comment brought St. Oprah to mind who said once "Of course your family push your buttons - they installed them!" and never does that feel truer than when I am around my mother! It does sometimes require what feels like ninja levels of self-restraint not to react to her provocations, but the emergence of tenderness in her makeup has given me the strength to bear it. I am sad that it has taken 58 years to see that side of her, but somehow knowing it is there makes a difference. Sending love across the oceans xxx
St Oprah! That's pretty funny. It's a true statement mind, about the buttons. My own mother had a very fractured relationship with her mother - my grandmother. At one time going so far as saying "She hated me". I don't think that was quite true - but there were some pretty violent exchanges over the years - the verbal ones more hurtful than the physical ones. In my gran's final years they made friends. It took all those years, years of wasted opportunities, shared unhappiness and crushed dreams to finally reach some kind of acceptance. Sending love back over the oceans too. X
Jody, I can certainly relate. Though never diagnosed, I'm certain my late mother suffered from BPD. I always stayed in touch with her, but like you through the safe distance of both space and time. I do wish I had reached a point, as you seemed to, where I could resist being triggered. I was able to do so, but only inconsistently. It seems like I had to wait for her passing to face the reality and the trauma of the last 60 years. Thank you for sharing something so personal. It's come as a bit of a shock to me how many people had to face similar or worse circumstances as children.
I am so sorry to hear the similarities in our experience… being able to tolerate her psychic attacks is something I can deal with now, but it still comes at a high price. They pass quickly now, like storms, and can be replaced by sweetness, which is odd but more bearable. And she is able to have heartbreaking moments of honesty with me now, which also pass, but which are unforgettable for me. Sending much love as you continue to make sense of your relationship with your mother in the safe space of her passing. Hard, hard, hard xxxxx
Phew! Jody you’ve done it again. Written an emotive, on point piece that resonates so darned sharp I can feel the blade. Me and my mother - right there. Amazing. Thank you 🙏 I feel for you, I really do. Sending love Trish x
Thank you for this essay, Jody. These words of yours, "the part of her that has never stopped considering my body to be an extension of hers, and thus to be monitored at all times" jumped out at me, and your essay hooked me. With a 92 year old mother with dementia who is only 18 years older than me, I finally have a reprieve from her "owning" me, now there are no more critiques, just grateful acceptance. She always wanted to live vicariously through me, because her own life was so awful, and so now, ironically, she owns me, because I must take care of her. As an only surviving child of this woman who wanted several and lost 2 stillborns after me, there is no escaping my singularity in her life. She has no more extended family. As a survivor of the Holocaust she is a first-person witness who is part of a dwindling group. Her memories are now mine, even though I come by them too late, and there are no more details to be gleaned from her broken mind. Like you, I feel resentment has morphed into deep compassion. I also connect with your words about being "safer to approach her" due to the dementia. My mother became schizophrenic when I reached adulthood, and her illness made me wish I could disappear form her life -- I wanted her gone, she was that emotionally destructive. Dementia has redefined how I feel about her.
Dear Zeligova, thank you so much for sharing and I'm so sorry for the many and complex legacies of trauma that have woven through you and your mother's life together. There was a time when I was a young adult when I wished my mother was dead, so fierce was was my anger, heartbreak and grief at the experience of being her daughter... the day I realised that our relationship would never be over, even once she was dead, something shifted for me. Slowly, slowly, slowly I began to accept things as they were, and not as I wished they had been, or were at that time. I read somewhere 'that you can waste your whole life trying to have a happy childhood' and that really stayed with me. My mother had complex mental and physical health issues before the dementia too... Sending you and your mother love, tenderness and compassion as you navigate dementia together. You might be interested to come along to a free webinar I'm hosting on March 20th called 'Caring for the Caregiver' - the link is below. Hugs, Jody x
https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_fR02SGiqSCGZoAxKIm4SMQ
My mother is 76 and has dementia too. It is a heartbreaking disease.. My siblings and I have found ourselves grappling with our childhood since her diagnosis in 2020. To make it worse, our father is her caretaker, bringing us more issues. Like you are experiencing, we are also seeing a very sweet and gentle mother on the good days. We have a rule to keep the bad memories from swallowing us up-every time we have session of talking about our frustrations and past hurts, we bring up a happy memory about them at the end of the call. It's brought us immense relief. Thinking of you.
As they transform, new things become possible. But oh, the costs of that! Sending love to you, and to your father. My stepfather cared for my mother at home for a few years until it was no longer possible... his grieving began the moment she left home as he knew she would never be coming back... a heartbreaking illness for everyone. Big hugs xx
Beautiful, poignant, raw and honest. Thanks for sharing Jody
Thank you Vicki. This essay has touched a lot of us it seems. Hugs, x
Thanks for sharing. This is hard to read when it mirrors so much of my relationship with my grandmother who took on the responsibility that my mother chose not to. But history of trying to raise a child with no resources had repeated between them. But the irony for caring for a parent with dementia is that you become and are the mother. Those caring skills instinctively kick in.
Thank you for commenting Patricia - that irony can feel pretty raw sometimes! Sending love for the hard days and moments. xxx
Thank you for this! I just moved my mom into memory care in November and am going through a similar experience.
What a bewildering hall of emotional mirrors this process is! Sending love to you and your mom xxx
So beautiful Jody. Thank you for sharing this. My mother was always encouraging and never critical and it makes me realise how blessed I was for that, even though my childhood was full of fear because of an alcoholic father.
My mother, sadly had dementia (Alzheimers) too, also starting in her early 70's. So many people seem to in these days of longer lives and polluted environments. I recognise the descriptions you give about how your mum appears and how she can be receptive at times. It is all too sad, and my mum eventually did not recognise her children although I could see her trying so so hard to work out who I was and what I was saying.
I am so glad that you are able to reach some sort of equanimity with your mother before she dies.
Lesley
Hi Lesley - thank you for taking the time to comment. I'm glad to hear that your mother was so supportive but what a huge toll it must have taken on your all because of alcoholism in the mix too... I grew up in a physically and emotionally unsafe home, and so did my Mum, and the intergenerational maternal legacy in our family seems pretty traumatic as far back as I can see...
I'm so sorry that your mother got to the stage where she didn't recognise you any longer... I'm dreading that stage as my mother is such a high-anxiety person anyway, I'm really worried how it will be for her... And yes, the numbers of people experiencing dementia does seem to be very high in our parent's generation, and so many more of them have children to look out for them... I think GenX and beyond are going to have transform eldercare if it is to meet our needs with any humanity... Hugs, Jody x
Beautiful piece which resonates with me, I feel for you and what you're going through at this time, sending love ❤
Thank you Annemarie, it seems there are many of us going through a version of this... I really appreciate your support xx
Beautiful piece. ❤️
Thank you Hilary - loved your piece about intergenerational friendships too!
Lovely that you could get to this place with your mother and I think with yourself. Foot enamored lover - good for you! ❤️
Thank you dear Maria. Life never seems to give up on offering us learning opportunities it seems, if we are willing to remain open to them! Or, as they say in one of my favourite Californian phrases 'AFOGs' - Another F***ing Opportunity for Growth :) xxxx
I know what you mean but I find that I sometimes get tired of these learning opportunities. ❤️❤️❤️
Me too! But I'm pretty sure that I'd go looking for them, after a rest, if they didn't come looking for me!
I need to learn how to delegate them but that is not my strength.
Thank you Jody. Your posts on your mother/daughter dynamic always resonate so much with me and you write about it so beautifully. My own mother/daughter relationship continues to be a painful journey for me but at least now I have an understanding of how truly awful and damaging my experience was and have the courage to articulate it. Through that process self compassion has also made an appearance. And the shift is thanks to amazing people like you who help to others to learn, grow and heal. X X
Dear Janice - I'm so sorry to hear what a tough time of it you've had, and are having. It's interesting that you mention self-compassion - I think had I not developed a self-compassion practice as part of my childlessness recovery (as I write about in my book, 'Living the Life Unexpected') I would not have been able to find it for my mother. It's weird how we fear 'self compassion' as being 'self indulgent navel gazing, yet it has been my experience that it has made me much more resilient and willing to do/feel the hard stuff in relationships, and life, too. Sending you, and your mother, much love, Jody x
Jody that was such a profoundly moving article it bought tears to my eyes. The mother daughter bond is such a complex, multifaceted thing. No one can wound you like the woman who gives you life. You can chase her approval all your life, and still feel like you are not good enough. I love the way you describe her, her physicality, her cruelty juxtaposed with a freshly found tenderness. And yet, you are learning now at this juncture how to understand this woman, shaped and formed by her own painful experiences. Sometimes people pass the pain on - they can't help it. Iove the photos. Your mother can't be all bad Jody, she made you and you hold so much beauty in your soul. X
Thank you so much Susan and your comment brought St. Oprah to mind who said once "Of course your family push your buttons - they installed them!" and never does that feel truer than when I am around my mother! It does sometimes require what feels like ninja levels of self-restraint not to react to her provocations, but the emergence of tenderness in her makeup has given me the strength to bear it. I am sad that it has taken 58 years to see that side of her, but somehow knowing it is there makes a difference. Sending love across the oceans xxx
St Oprah! That's pretty funny. It's a true statement mind, about the buttons. My own mother had a very fractured relationship with her mother - my grandmother. At one time going so far as saying "She hated me". I don't think that was quite true - but there were some pretty violent exchanges over the years - the verbal ones more hurtful than the physical ones. In my gran's final years they made friends. It took all those years, years of wasted opportunities, shared unhappiness and crushed dreams to finally reach some kind of acceptance. Sending love back over the oceans too. X
Jody, I can certainly relate. Though never diagnosed, I'm certain my late mother suffered from BPD. I always stayed in touch with her, but like you through the safe distance of both space and time. I do wish I had reached a point, as you seemed to, where I could resist being triggered. I was able to do so, but only inconsistently. It seems like I had to wait for her passing to face the reality and the trauma of the last 60 years. Thank you for sharing something so personal. It's come as a bit of a shock to me how many people had to face similar or worse circumstances as children.
I am so sorry to hear the similarities in our experience… being able to tolerate her psychic attacks is something I can deal with now, but it still comes at a high price. They pass quickly now, like storms, and can be replaced by sweetness, which is odd but more bearable. And she is able to have heartbreaking moments of honesty with me now, which also pass, but which are unforgettable for me. Sending much love as you continue to make sense of your relationship with your mother in the safe space of her passing. Hard, hard, hard xxxxx
Phew! Jody you’ve done it again. Written an emotive, on point piece that resonates so darned sharp I can feel the blade. Me and my mother - right there. Amazing. Thank you 🙏 I feel for you, I really do. Sending love Trish x
Thank you Trish - a comment like this from you - a sister traveller and writer - means so much. Happy New Year dear one xxx