Growing up, I witnessed my maternal grandmother’s struggles with mental health. Her conversations with herself, oscillating between anger and resignation, hinted at a turmoil within her. Despite her diagnosis of schizophrenia whispered in hushed tones, the details of her condition remained a mystery to me. She refused medication, claiming it made her drowsy, further complicating the situation. Years later, I witnessed a transformation in my mother, Amma, as she became the primary caregiver for my grandmother. The strain of caregiving began to take its toll on Amma, evoking memories of my grandmother’s episodes and raising concerns about my own future. The fear of inheriting my mother’s sensitive nature, which I equated with weakness, gnawed at me.
However, as time passed, Amma’s unwavering resilience became apparent. Despite the challenges of caregiving, she prioritized her own well-being and pursued activities that brought her joy. Her messages to me transformed from veiled grievances to detailed accounts of her days, filled with child-like excitement and laughter. It was as though a tempest within her had quieted, replaced by a newfound lightness and energy.
This shift in Amma’s personality softened my own attitude toward her. No longer dreading her replies, I began initiating conversations and sought her opinions on matters beyond simple affirmations. It dawned on me that the qualities I had once feared – her sensitivity, her tendency to internalize emotions – were also intertwined with her resilience, independence, and spiritedness.
As Amma ages, I recognize that the possibility of becoming more like her is not something to dread but rather a potential inheritance of strength and resilience. I am committed to being there for her as she was for my grandmother, albeit with less anger and anxiety. Our journey as mother and daughter has been far from perfect, but it has taught me the importance of empathy, the power of vulnerability, and the resilience that can be found within even the most complex of relationships.
