I'm borrowing the title of this article from Dylan Thomas. The reason that I'm thinking about his poem regarding dying is that I am watching as my beloved Aunt A. struggles with Alzheimer's disease. In some ways, we are lucky. A. is in her late 80's. She seems to have aged relatively gracefully. I'm saying that she 'seems' to have aged relatively smoothly because it has been a long time since we visited. At least five years. And most of our contact in my adult years has been by phone. So I only know what she chooses to tell me. Or what I pick up from conversation with my cousins.
I am grieving the loss of my Aunt. A. was, and is, very important in my life. Her support as I dealt with the mental illness of Maxine was crucial. She made my childhood survivable. A.
was compassionate. She acted as a loving sounding board. She even supported my Mom. As an adult, A. and I have been through ups and downs. I have felt her judgment on many occasions. I also resented it. But, the bottom line has always been that she was there for me. Always.
I do believe A. tried to understand mental illness. Given the fact that much has been discovered about the biochemical nature of such illness, I also know that there were holes in her understanding. I remember a discussion about anorexia in which my normally compassionate Aunt told me that given the number of starving people in the world...she thought that anorexics were bad people. No amount of discussion or explanation shook that belief. But overall, A. was ahead of her time. She dealt with Maxine gently and provided the rest of us with understanding and support.
It is ironic to see my highly intelligent Aunt struggle with an illness that attacks memory and thought. As a working Mom at the University of Illinois, she earned a college degree on her lunch hour. Looking at my struggles, and some of my failures, I really respect that accomplishment. She really is a pretty spectacular human being. I love her so much. While I knew that eventually I would lose her, this seems particularly cruel. I have seen the loss in our phone calls. Our conversation doesn't always make sense. But she seems really happy to hear from me. I will definitely keep calling until it is no longer feasible. I will continue to tell her how much she means to me and the influence she has had in my life. I owe her so much more than that.
I will encourage her to continue fighting as long as she is able. I know that the struggle is intense. A. ...please pay attention to Dylan Thomas. Nurture your spirit. You are so loved.
I am grieving the loss of my Aunt. A. was, and is, very important in my life. Her support as I dealt with the mental illness of Maxine was crucial. She made my childhood survivable. A.
was compassionate. She acted as a loving sounding board. She even supported my Mom. As an adult, A. and I have been through ups and downs. I have felt her judgment on many occasions. I also resented it. But, the bottom line has always been that she was there for me. Always.
I do believe A. tried to understand mental illness. Given the fact that much has been discovered about the biochemical nature of such illness, I also know that there were holes in her understanding. I remember a discussion about anorexia in which my normally compassionate Aunt told me that given the number of starving people in the world...she thought that anorexics were bad people. No amount of discussion or explanation shook that belief. But overall, A. was ahead of her time. She dealt with Maxine gently and provided the rest of us with understanding and support.
It is ironic to see my highly intelligent Aunt struggle with an illness that attacks memory and thought. As a working Mom at the University of Illinois, she earned a college degree on her lunch hour. Looking at my struggles, and some of my failures, I really respect that accomplishment. She really is a pretty spectacular human being. I love her so much. While I knew that eventually I would lose her, this seems particularly cruel. I have seen the loss in our phone calls. Our conversation doesn't always make sense. But she seems really happy to hear from me. I will definitely keep calling until it is no longer feasible. I will continue to tell her how much she means to me and the influence she has had in my life. I owe her so much more than that.
I will encourage her to continue fighting as long as she is able. I know that the struggle is intense. A. ...please pay attention to Dylan Thomas. Nurture your spirit. You are so loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment