Take care of aging parents in another country, leaving their own family behind

Two days before Christmas, my brother called me in a panic. Our 86 -year -old mother had suddenly become erratic and verbally abusive, and he needed help it.

“Can you come?” He asked.

Listening to the tired tone in his voice, I knew I had to say yes.

Later in the evening, I was on a plane for Hong Kong, 7,200 miles from my home in Los Angeles. It was my fifth trip of this type in 12 months, crossing the Pacific to help Take care of my aging parents.

This last visit was particularly difficult. I left my children alone for the holidays, and I bought a single, uncertain ticket when I come back. I ended up staying more than three months.

My home trips have become more frequent

In many ways, Hong Kong is my house. I was born there. My parents, from India, have been living there for decades. I moved to Los Angeles in 2000 after my wedding.

For many years, I only maintained kept links with my birthplace. Given the importance of joint family tradition in our culture, my parents are fortunate to live with my brother, his wife and their children. Like many parts of Southeast Asia, domestic aid is relatively affordable, ensuring that my parents are well maintained. In these circumstances, I rarely returned in the years after my departure.

But as they have it ageEverything has changed. My brother and sister-in-law travel frequently and do not like to leave my parents without a family member despite their caregivers paid nearby. My other brothers and sisters have work commitments that prevent them from flying back and forth to lend a hand.

I’m a widow. My sons are young adults and I am not linked to demanding work. So the responsibility In recent years, I have largely fallen on me.

I quickly started leaving my brand

A few days after my arrival in Hong Kong, I took my mother to a neurologist. It was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, which explained its aggressive and abrasive behavior. They have been prescribed medication.

As a relative foreigner, I have observed certain triggers and mitigate them. The dinner in our house had traditionally been served at 8:30 p.m., followed by a television watching up to at least 11 years old, when my parents’ nerves were often effiled.

I implemented a new schedule: dinner at 7:15 am and light up at 9:30 am. They argued at the start but finally gave in. The difference was deep. Combined with effective drugs, our family life has been transformed.

But the process was difficult. My mother fell twice while I was there. My father, in a wheelchair and almost blind, fought by his side. The two lost their hearing.

The activities that brought them cheerful and united to our family – long Sunday lunches in new restaurants, visits to parents and travel – are now beyond them. Their world has shrunk, and all they have is from each other. Looking at their decline is, for me, heartbreaking.

My family needs me too

Meanwhile, my boys continued to ask when I went home. In addition to missing the holidays with them, I also missed the birthday of a son, visits to college for the other, evacuations during the horrible fires in CaliforniaAnd the daily rhythm of our lives. The 15 -hour jet lag meant that they would call me distractedly at 3 a.m., not realizing that I was standing for hours to manage my parents’ care.

I have already reserved two other flights to Hong Kong in the coming months. As long as my parents are alive, I plan to come back every few months, staying for weeks at a time. Caregiver For older parents, is intrinsically difficult. Do through continents is infinitely more. There is also the painful reality that the next time I will come back, my mother may not recognize me.

However, despite exhaustion and sacrifices, I would not have it otherwise. When I left Hong Kong to return to Los Angeles, my mother, despite her mist of confusion and forgetting, tightened me closely, tears in the eyes and said: “Thank you for everything.” It was quite rewarded.