Monday, August 12, 2024

90 years...

 Mom was born on August 11, 1934. As I said in her eulogy below, she grew up in an abusive house with alcoholic parents. Dad literally rescued her. 

The only way to understand this post is to first watch the eulogy.

https://youtu.be/uEgwhwGnPZ4?si=Vz0BW-2wfSYrejUr


Dad's death rocked my siblings whereas I was pretty much at peace with it within 24 hours of his death. For Dad I received the news at 7 PM UAE time. I was fortunately with my friends (we had come to call each other the "Al Ain Support Group") and they took care of me, helped me pack and by midnight I was in the Abu Dhabi airport ready to fly to America. Because I couldn't book all the way to Iowa my incredible friend Tony dropped everything to drive 5 hours to pick me up. By the time I landed in Chicago I was OK with Dad's death. Dad had always said there were things worse than death. As Dad was declining very quickly with Alzheimer's I was at peace that he died before he lost everything that was his mind.

Mom's death, however, was way more complicated for me. Mom was very smart and had an unusually sharp cutting humor. I definitely inherited that from her and undoubtedly lost friends because of it.

She also suffered with mental illness. In 2000 she was diagnosed as "Paranoid Schizophrenic." (Apparently they've dropped the term paranoid in recent years.) Something I couldn't put in the eulogy is describing what it was like to be in a hospital ready to sign papers with Dad to have her involuntarily committed to a psychiatric ward. At the last minute Mom chose to admit herself because they explained to her that if she goes in voluntarily she can leave at any time. 

Mom went in and put on a show. One of the nurses joked it was Oscar-worthy. After 4 days/nights in the facility she asked to leave and as she entered voluntarily they couldn't stop her and Mom was released. Less than 24 hours later Mom reverted to... it's hard to describe what she was like. Dad teared up and went silent. I went off on her. "You do not want to get better. You prefer to believe the world is against you. You believe the voices in your head over the people who love you most. I can't take this anymore..." (I could have written this in all caps with exclamation points.)

Mom agreed to go on to a drug called Resperidone and worked pretty well. Mom was a good patient in that she religiously took her meds but this was the one med that she would occasionally try to go awhile taking a half dose. Over the next decade I could see it and I'd say, "Mom, go back to the full dose."

I think all children (or GenX kids at least) have a complicated relationship with their parents. All I can say is that I thought doing a eulogy for Mom would be easy. It wasn't. 

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