I last saw my mother-in-law about a year ago.
"I haven't met you before,” she remarked as I walked through the door.
"Yes you
have," I offered politely. "I'm Clara's husband."
She looked a little
embarrassed but also seemed pleased to realise that her youngest daughter was
married, and periodically smiled at me for the remainder of my visit.
Her Alzheimer's was
already reasonably far progressed at that time but sadly has moved on to an even more
advanced stage since then.
I have been spared the ordeal of watching someone gradually deteriorate both physically and mentally but Clara and her stoic father have tackled it head on. Clara has been nothing short of legendary in the support of her parents – as well as dealing with the emotional side, she has organised everything from carers, hospital beds and hoists to weekly grocery deliveries, roof repairs and plumbing.
I have been spared the ordeal of watching someone gradually deteriorate both physically and mentally but Clara and her stoic father have tackled it head on. Clara has been nothing short of legendary in the support of her parents – as well as dealing with the emotional side, she has organised everything from carers, hospital beds and hoists to weekly grocery deliveries, roof repairs and plumbing.
Throughout the year,
she has faithfully visited them at least fortnightly, sometimes twice in one
week, each time an eight-hour round trip to the house where they have lived for
the past 30 years.
Until now.
For Clara has arranged
for her parents, and their live-in carer, to spend their remaining years in a
flat a few doors down the road from us. There are still a lot of logistics to
sort out but the aim is to complete the move in time for Christmas.
Clara’s mum and I both
suffer from incurable neurodegenerative diseases. Thankfully mine does not (at least not
yet) involve any dementia. Once she moves down the road, she will struggle to
recognise her own daughter, let alone her son-in-law. For myself, as far as I
can tell, I still have all my memories – and marbles – intact.
After the move
happens, Clara’s mum is likely too far gone to even notice the difference, but
the hope is that for Clara’s dad the move south will give him a new lease of
life. Clara and I should be able to see him regularly and take him to the local
park, or a nearby art gallery, or the occasional meal out.
The situation reminds
me that more important than myself are those around me. The focus now is on
making Clara’s dad’s remaining years as joyful as possible and I am looking
forward to being part of that.
Similarly, I am
starting to think ahead about how I can avoid my later years becoming all about
me; instead I want them to be happy ones for Clara, Rosa and others.
