Blog #
93…May, 2019
As we all
get older, knees and hips cry to be replaced, eyes and ears demand augmentation
and our brains approach their best-by date too. Dementia in its various forms starts to affect
our friends and we wonder if that forgotten name or misplaced item might herald
a similar fate for us. There aren’t any
surgeries or appliances to replace our thinking function and all the word games,
jumping jacks and kale salads aren’t going to ward off the brain chemistry that can shift and makes us a different person.
That’s the
key phrase – still our father, sister or lifelong friend but somehow different,
and everything changes. Someone called
dementia the disease of the beholder, we may suffer more than the person
directly affected, and that’s where it becomes immensely challenging for us.
We’re used to a relationship with a set of behaviours based on experience,
roles and shared memories and now we need to find ways to maintain the
relationship with a different set of rules. And, even harder, maybe just some of the time, because
disorders of the mind shift around and sometimes memories appear unexpectedly
and lost inhibitions return.
A couple of
years ago, I saw a show at a small gallery in Durham (a small community an hour’s drive north
and west of Toronto) by local artist Tony Luciani called Mama in the Meantime. Tony had taken a series of photographs of his mother Elia after she came to live
with him when she was 91 and needed his support. It was a “photographic dialogue between mother and
son” done with affection, humour and a shot of reality. Rather than chafing at
the responsibility and regretting what was lost, Tony included Elia in his art
practice, confronting aging and frailty and managing to hold on to some childhood
dreams.
Tony's photos speak for themselves...
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| When a Child Has a Child |
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| I'm Not Half the Person I Used to Be |
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| Dining with Herself |
