Finding Humor in the Chaos of Faith and Family

 

Finding Humor in the Chaos of Faith and Family

Ah, the age-old question: do we really know the people we’re with? My mum met my dad when she was just a sprightly 21-year-old and decided to marry a man she barely knew. Talk about a plot twist! It’s like signing a lease on a house you’ve never seen—exciting until you find out the backyard is a swamp.

Initially, things were okay. My dad had a few quirks, like a secret stash of addictions that my mum, bless her sweet, innocent heart, chose to overlook. It’s a classic case of “if I don’t see it, it’s not there,” right? Fast forward, and things took a turn for the worse. Picture this: a lovely Indian lady living in a soap opera, complete with physical and mental abuse. Not the kind of drama you want in your life, folks!

There were times she had bruises and black eyes that looked like they were painted on by some sadistic artist. And let’s not even talk about the hospital visits for attempted suicide. I mean, I once caught her drinking bleach. “Mum, that’s not a new cleaning method!” I thought as I turned into an accidental paramedic.

Life was a rollercoaster of fear for her, not knowing which version of Dad would walk through the door. My mum was not just attractive; she was also incredibly intelligent. Yet, my father made her nervous, and her stress levels were always on high alert because of him. It’s like living in a high-stakes game show where the prize is just peace of mind!

Oh, and did I mention? She was a Sudoku champion and a math professor! Yes, while juggling more chaos than a circus performer on a unicycle, she was solving those number puzzles like a pro. Who knew behind the stitches of those 10-pence dresses was a woman crunching numbers and teaching calculus? It’s like living with a superhero—if superheroes were also great at sewing.

But here’s the silver lining: she gave birth to three of us—my two brothers and yours truly. We survived her 10-pence dresses, which she sewed with the skill of a fashion designer on a budget. I still don’t know how we made it, but we did!

Amid all this chaos, my mum had one constant: her faith in God. Every morning and evening, she prayed and meditated like a zen master who’d just found a stash of good incense. No matter how tough things got, she never missed a day. Talk about commitment!

Fast-forward 30 years: My brothers, against all odds, managed to get married to two wonderful women who, let’s be real, probably didn’t know what they were signing up for. But they rolled with it and now bless us with five beautiful nieces and nephews. Who knew chaos could be so cute?

Then came the twist! My dad fell ill, and my mum and I cared for him until his last breath. Believe it or not, he even said sorry before he went. So, naturally, I thought, “Finally! Mum can take a breath! She can learn to drive, take up knitting, maybe even join a book club.” But nope! Life had other plans. Enter Alzheimer’s and severe dementia. Surprise!

This woman had survived a lifetime of turmoil only to be dealt this hand. Now, we’re trying to give her the best life possible, but she doesn’t even recognize us. The irony? Even with dementia, she still remembers God. It’s like the ultimate cosmic joke!

Watching her suffer is tough. It’s a double whammy—seeing your parent fade away twice is like watching a sad movie on repeat. I have a love-hate relationship with God. I’m generally a glass-half-full kind of person, but sometimes that glass feels more like a shot glass when I see her suffer.

So, guys, take it from me: you may be a pro and a mental scientist, but if you have stress in your life and live in fear every day, it will hit you like a ton of bricks when you least expect it. Be aware, let it go, and don’t suffer. Your mental health is far more critical. I would never want ANYBODY—I mean, even the people I somewhat disagree with—to endure this disease for their loved ones or for themselves.

Despite everything, she’s surrounded by love—a great house, the best kids, and caregivers who brighten her day. She might not know it, but she’s happy. And when she finally leaves this world, I think she’ll return as a princess. After all, she believed in reincarnation. So, dear Hindu gods, I’m putting in my order now!

Thanks for joining me on this wild ride of faith, family, and a dash of humour. 

Life’s too short not to find the funny in the chaos!