A Question from A Student

I lived with my mother for fourteen years when she had Alzheimer’s disease. I published a book about the experience. A university invited me to be a guest teacher because of the book.

When I was a student, universities were very crowded. I was worried that I would need to talk in front of hundreds of students. Actually, there were only six students in front of me—because of the declining birth rate in Japan, I guess.

I decided not to give them a speech but to have a round-table discussion.

I briefly introduced myself and my book, then asked: “Do you have any questions?”

The first question was, “Why did you decide to care for your mother?”

That was not the question I expected. I couldn’t answer for a while.

I never decided to take care of my mother, not intentionally. I lived with my parents, and my mother happened to become an Alzheimer’s patient. At that time, my mother had many friends. They visited our house every day. I assumed they would take part in caregiving for my mother, but they didn’t. I assumed government welfare offices and hospitals would take care of my mother, but they never actively helped us. The caregiver needed to make the first move.

I never wanted to take care of my mother in my life. Everyone dumped the caregiving on me and ran away. No one would take care of her except me. I didn’t have the courage to dump my mother, and I never did.

I couldn’t answer the student’s question then, but I can now.

“In the future, I wish only people who wanted to decide to become caregivers.”

 

Proofreading by Michael W, ProofreadingServices.com

Picture Undrey