In her 70’s my mother became ill with what would eventually, after a long decline, be labeled as Alzheimer’s disease. But at the onset it seemed like a combination of expected dementia due to aging, and stress over the death of her daughter, my sister, Cindy.

I remember being extremely upset and talking to a friend about what I perceived to be the tragedy of my mother’s situation, and mine, and my father’s, and my family’s…

My friend listened while I went on about all Mom couldn’t do anymore, and how much she must be suffering, and how terrible it all was, and how Dad was unable to accept her decline, and how I was “losing” my mother….

My friend finally said, in a sharp, clear, firm voice, which I’ll never forget:

“It’s not your death, Melanie.”

It took me aback—as if she suddenly had physically shaken me.

All at once, I felt myself separate from my mother and became peaceful inside.

Just like that. I understood the implication.

And I never lost it.

I then was able to be with my mother through her long dying in ways I chose. We had become separate people.

I learned I could be witness to Mom’s suffering but did not have to make it my own.

And I was able to extend that lesson in support of Dad (who is now dying with cancer) even though I didn’t necessarily agree with the choices he was making in Mom’s care.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James