I'm caring for my mom, who has Alzheimer's, from halfway around the world. I call her every day.
- My mother was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's during the pandemic.
- Unable to travel back to the UK to be with her and my family, I started calling every day.
I didn't set out to be a long-distance carer. But, stuck in Australia thanks to visa restrictions and border lockdowns, I had to find another way to be there for my family in the UK when my mother started showing symptoms of early-onset Alzheimer's.
Despite being about 9,000 miles away, I've been a part of my mom's care team for over four years. As a voice on the phone, I've been there as she's discovered the limits of her new reality, including forgetting how to read a clock or make a cup of tea. I was even there — via Zoom — when we finally got the official diagnosis after years of tests.While there have been many struggles, there have also been unexpected benefits, such as bringing our family closer. We now have hourslong family video calls every Sunday and go on grown-up family vacations on my annual trips back to the UK.I'll always feel guilty that I'm not there, but I know deep down that she wouldn't have wanted me to give up my life and go back, so I've found ways to help from afar.
It happened so quickly
The worst part was how sudden it was. My mum always wanted to come and visit me in Australia but was waiting until she retired. Unfortunately, life had other plans. By the time she was in her mid-50s, she was struggling to keep up with conversations, forgetting about plans, and accusing everyone of keeping her out of the loop even though all her plans were on the calendar and in her diary.
Within 12 months, she had to give up her job, her driver's license, and her independence, but it still took another few years to get a diagnosis. Without an official diagnosis, we could not access external support, so she was often stuck at home while my dad went to work. Fortunately, her friends would come by most afternoons to keep her company.
We talk on the phone every day
I started calling every morning to bridge the gap between my dad leaving and my mum's friends arriving. In the beginning, we'd talk for hours about everything and nothing. She didn't always know who I was, but she seemed to look forward to our calls and seemed to trust my voice.
I'd also email letters and photos for my dad to print so we could bond over our shared love of photography, creative writing, and travel. She was — and still is — a visual person, so photos helped her put faces to names. For a while, the letters also worked as a reference tool and helped her feel connected and loved — something she struggled with after spending so much time alone.
Unfortunately, she has declined considerably since her diagnosis. But while the days of long conversations and long letters are behind us, we still talk most mornings; I just limit our conversations to simple topics, or it can get confusing.It's hard, but I want to be present in whatever way I can
I also send occasional cards and gifts to brighten her days and let her know I'm thinking of her. She was always a cup-half-empty person, but her Alzheimer's has made it worse. Fortunately, she now has a lot more community support and plenty of activities to fill up her days, such as art classes and early-onset Alzheimer's clubs and excursions.