Last week, Dad called me late at night sounding extremely unsettled. His sister had taken my mother to the brain doctor in Taiwan, and the scan results showed all kinds of plaque… I don’t remember what the specific medical terminology was, but it basically confirmed Alzheimer’s. The doctor recommended that she start medication immediately.

And then Dad ranted off about a whole series of things:

• Already, a week in to her stay, my brother is hardly ever home, meaning my mother is home alone for large chunks of time. Johnny has basically gone off the deep end (which happened years ago), so he spends all his free time outside of teaching hanging out with the religious cult. My mother was attending some of the group activities with him– including facilitated meditation and some stretching/exercise classes– but on days when she felt tired, he would simply go without her.
• According to Dad, J would also get mad at mom when she refused to go. Or, if she didn’t do the meditation while he was gone, he would chide her. But she simply couldn’t remember the full sequence of chants…
• Normally, it would seem NBD for mom to be home alone. However, given the latest test results, my father is extremely concerned about her safety while unsupervised. You’ve heard all those scary stories about people with Alzheimer’s forgetting about the stove being on or leaving the house and forgetting how to get back home.
• My father’s family introduced my mom to another lady who lives nearby. She started hanging out a bit with my mom, but she’s rather religious AND in sharing her Feng Shui knowledge, she immediately deemed the Taipei condo to be incorrectly laid out. She claimed the layout was the culprit for all their relationship woes with my brother. The recommended solution? Sell the condo. Yup, she did go there.
• After the doctor’s appointment, as soon as my aunt took my mom home to Johnny’s place, he told her not to take the meds. He insisted that doctors/western med will be the death of everyone! He told them to trash the meds. Now THIS is where we have a major problem. My father is a doctor, and my brother declares that doctors are scammers. Drug companies are scammers. Meanwhile, my brother is selling deer placenta supplements, and he’s in a religious cult. My dad believes those ventures to be scams. So see? Constant conflict. I mean, how are these two people possibly in the same goddamn family, right? Having done my own research, I think both of Johnny’s organizations are multilevel marketing (MLM) structures. I’m sure he genuinely believes in the effectiveness of those pills. Still, I don’t like the coercive tactics I have personally witnessed, and I won’t ignore the dangerous and deceptive nature of those kinds of organizations that rely so damn heavily on recruits.

Anyway, I tried to calm my dad down by asking questions to get to the core of what’s bugging him. On one hand, he has always been on the protective side of things, but man, he was seriously freaking out. And he kept saying that he was trying to get all his tax paperwork done so he could get back to Taiwan.

I tried my best to break shit down into smaller chunks. Here’s the thing: Taiwanese culture is extremely superstitious and religious. For an itty bitty island in Asia, there are an INSANE number of temples (over 16,000 registered) all over the place. There are more temples per capita than any other country in the world. And those temples are all built from private funds, meaning the Taiwanese drop a huge amount of dough towards religion (Buddhism or Taoism or whatever). Yes, my brother seems more brainwashed than the average person there, but I’m just saying the baseline is still way higher than what we’re used to here in the US.

Second, same goes for Feng Shui. So fine, the lady tells us to sell the house. I mean, the house belongs to mom and dad. It’s still their decision. But I think Dad just doesn’t like my mom being in the presence of “brainwashed” people. Maybe he thinks they will influence her the way they have influenced my brother…

Third, the MOST stressful aspect of this is my brother telling mom NOT to take the prescription meds. In fact, he urged her to double her dose of deer placenta, which he incidentally sells! I know, right? When my aunt asked the doctor, he was skeptical about the deer pills making a difference, but he didn’t believe they would hurt. So for now, mom is taking both.

After getting the rundown, I finally zoomed into the core thing: Dad, we can’t control other people believing in religion or feng shui or deer placenta. We can only control what we ourselves think and how we can take care of mom.

The next day, I called mom for her bday. I was prepared for complete incoherence and craziness, but oddly, she sounded better than I’d heard in a long while. She was more energetic, more lively. And after I asked her about the events she was attending, she sounded fine. She enjoys the group meditation, even if she’s not fully entrenched with the religion. In other words she participates casually but more for the interaction and exercise than for the religious aspect. And she really didn’t seem that bothered by the feng shui lady either. It was like, she was ok with disagreeing with the woman.

Finally, to my surprise, she expressed no frustration about my brother never being around. She said she is def feeling better after taking the supplements for a month, but she’ll add the prescription meds and see what happens. Totally logical!

I asked how her mood was so good, and she said she just stopped caring. Say what??? Yeah, she just doesn’t care anymore. And she doesn’t want to be going back and forth from the US to Asia anymore. She even gave the ok for me to start downsizing their stuff.

We talked a bit about my real estate work. She and my dad have dramatically changed their tune in the last several months. Whereas before, they seemed super obsessed about me attaining professional success, they now tell me to give myself time and to take care of myself.

I told my mom to keep doing her meditation and exercise, bc those activities are good for slowing the mental degradation. And then I started to cry. Mortality changes things. I think back to last November when I swore I hated her. Even a few weeks ago, when she insisted on staying back in Taiwan, I was so annoyed. But since then, the medical tests are more conclusive, and time certainly feels more finite than ever.

She told me not to cry: Life twists and turns, and we must make the best of the hand we are dealt. I was so sad thinking about the path ahead towards an inevitable end, and yet, at the same time, I felt a strange tinge of relief. I am a daughter raised by two people who spent a lifetime obsessing about fixing all that was not good enough or all that was wrong in their lives. Their tenacity is a large part of their success, but it was also a huge part of their failure to attain happiness. At long last, they are letting go. There is a phrase in Chinese that translates to “think open.” It means to let go and open your mind. After seven decades with their thoughts and emotions tied compulsively tight, those knots are finally unraveling. Life changes in an instant.

My father-in-law passed away this morning. What a crazy and turbulent chain of events over the last two weeks. In January, he had started to fall and faint with increased frequency. Doctors diagnosed him with CMML, a kind of leukemia. The recommendation was to undergo a “mild” form of chemo and then emerge with two years of good quality of life. As the daughter of a doctor, I always entrust medical professionals with our care. J’s father had qualms about chemo given his advanced age (83 y/o) as well as his pre-existing Parkinson’s disease. I thought he was being resistant. The family discussed their concerns with the oncologist, who reassured them of the mildness and tolerance, so they proceeded. Unfortunately, from that point on, my FIL just never really recovered: there were blood transfusions, complications with his Parkinson’s, problems with his liver, this and that. After chemo, he moved to physical therapy and rehab and there the level of care was totally mismatched and inadequate. He developed a fever then pneumonia and the rehab people were like arguing with the fam about giving him Tylenol to control the fever! Understandably, his level of care was way beyond their realm, but still! After two days there, he was moved to hospice down the road from the family home. They gave him morphine and finally, he was comfortable and at peace. He passed away this morning.

The way I am, there is always someone who has to be accountable. I am upset that the primary care physician and the oncologist weren’t on the same page. I’m upset by the apparent disconnect and siloing of his medical records. WTF happened? Sure, on one hand, he was 83. He wasn’t exactly a healthy person: he ate crap, he didn’t exercise, he wasn’t active. Yes, all those things were true. But somewhere along the way over the past two weeks, there wasn’t adequate followup. The oncologist never visited him after chemo. Just yesterday, he even told the family the blood work looked good, and it was my sister-in-law who insisted that death was imminent. I also have so many feelings about my parent-in-laws. Why didn’t they live healthier? Why didn’t they have a better social support system?

And then I realized that none of this thinking and processing helps. He’s gone and however he chose to live his life was his call and his choice. These are the moments when I realize I am still someone who struggles with the basics of acceptance– acceptance for myself and of those I love. Isn’t feminism ultimately about honoring the choices women (and men) make for themselves?

Earlier yesterday, my father called me from Taiwan and he gave me a rundown of properties that are pending sale. In truth, they have been “pending” for at least two years now– commercial property and land transactions take for fucking ever. As a Realtor, I have heard this and know this. He wanted me to handle a different property that’s a residential lease. And another property, a residential rental, is up for lease renewal. He told me he was going to renew the lease, and I. went. ballistic. What have we been talking about, esp all last year with the eldercare of my grandparents and the now tenuous situation with my mom? Are you fucking downsizing or NOT? I was so livid. All he keeps saying is, don’t worry about my business. I will handle it. Well, you’re not going to handle it when your wife gets sick and you are too damn old. The decline happens fast. Jesus fucking Christ. Enough is enough.

After I got off the phone with him, I started doing my thing: why can’t my parents be fucking normal. Why are they retarded and difficult. Why is my brother a useless fucking moron? Argh!!!

Yesterday afternoon, when I spoke with Ellen and she told me the end was definitely near, she said she wished they hadn’t had so many arguments and discussions about cleaning out the family home and getting it prepped for the market. So much time and energy was spent arguing and trying to persuade the parents to let go of their stuff… in the end, the decline happens fast and the kids ultimately make the call anyway. What she said kinda stuck with me. Like her, I’m a planner. I want to know where my parents will live. Where they will obtain care. I want to know those details and plan as much ahead as possible. But maybe Ellen is right: the time together is finite; don’t fill it with frustration and contempt and blame.

John has always been an amazing son. He isn’t very vocal or sentimental, but his actions and his patience and clarity in prioritizing the relationship above all else is something to admire and appreciate. Even as his father declined and I asked all kinds of angry questions about why this happened and who failed us, he knew to focus attention and energy on moving forward, on getting his dad more comfortable. None of that other stuff mattered, bc it couldn’t be changed. This is how life is: shit happens and rather than finding the culprit or scapegoat to explain how something like this came to be, it happened. We are here now. Adapt and figure out the next critical step.

RIP, Dad E. You and your wife raised a big family and instilled in them so much of what is good and right in this world: character, integrity, responsibility, family, and love. Thank you for this enduring legacy.

So my father called me this morning about mom’s MRI results. Not good. While the contusions appear minor (at less than 1 cm2), there is definitely white matter that, coupled with her failed results on the cognitive tests, suggests something is def abnormal. The doctor suggested doing another MRI with contrast dye in another month to see if anything changes… At this point, there are further tests that can confirm whether this is Alzheimer’s or “regular” dementia (80% of dementia cases turn out to be Alzheimer’s), but Alzheimer’s seems to be the likely scenario (my maternal grandmother has it right now). There’s no cure for Alzheimer’s, just meds to slow its progression. And of course, those meds have side effects. My dad didn’t say specifically what those are… Dad’s doctor friend suggested that giving mom more things to do and handle would be good for her brain. I’m trying to think about what puzzles or such she would even have the capacity to do. I dunno.

Both dad and I were kinda matter-of-fact about everything on the phone. I suppose a part of me isn’t that surprised, but now I’m feeling regretful that so many times in the past, I reacted so angrily to her confusion. I really am the worst.

As soon as I got off the phone, J asked if she was afraid. I don’t even know. I didn’t ask. When I talked to her, it was our usual distant, random conversation. Forty years later, I still don’t know how to have a real relationship with my parents. And that makes me sad. I spend all this time and effort trying to build my emotional/social intelligence so I can connect better with friends and strangers and yet I am completely unable to exert the same effort for my parents. Why? I have interacted with them using frustration and anger and contempt for so fucking long, I don’t even know how to find the other emotions!

This evening, I was on the phone with dad doing tech support. He seemed more energetic than usual about learning how to do stuff… maybe he freshly motivated knowing he’ll need to step up his game to take care of my mom, or maybe he’s trying harder so as to not doubly frustrate me. Despite his new verve, I sensed a vulnerability in him that I hadn’t noticed before. I wonder about this process of spending your entire adult life loving one person, building and raising a family together, and then knowing that slowly, that person will become less and less recognizable. What must that decline and growing distance feel like? The loss of the mind. The loss of your best friend and life companion. It’s a very scary thing.

Earlier today, I did some weird mental exercise where I ranked possible illnesses and diseases for my mother. Would it be better if she had cancer? A stroke? kidney disease? I worry about my capacity for kindness and compassion towards my mother, especially since our communication has always been tenuous. If I can’t communicate with her, or she can’t grasp what’s happening, or she doesn’t know who we are… what do we do? And how incredibly lonely and harrowing a journey that will be for her. I don’t know how to be warm and loving. How will I dig deep and become the daughter I need to be?