The Decision Theory

Family. An important component in most people's lives. I wouldn't dare to argue against it. I just never was overly invested in mine.

I was taking for granted to have a loving family, and to be surrounded by people who truly care about me.

It was not before my loved ones were attacked by a silent predator, that I rethought the concept of unconditional love and the theory of decision making.

I oftentimes wonder why I did and said the things that I did, when I absolutely knew the reason why she was the way she was. She didn't choose to lose her memory, she didn't choose to be helpless, she didn't choose to be a burden; she just fell prey to the disease known as Alzheimer's.

My grandma was the victim, and I became a victim by default.

At first, you can laugh about the memory loss and the outrageous stories that you are told, but after a while, it becomes exhausting to play the game. I became exhausted to make the right decisions and react the correct way in every humiliating or awkward situation that I found myself in. 

I regretted every single negative reaction that I had immediately afterward, but every word spoken or action committed by me was a defensive reaction.

I only kept thinking: this is not my grandma. I don't know who this person is, but she is not the woman that she looks like.

When my mom revealed that she made the decision to move my grandma to a nursing home I felt relieved.

Out of sight, out of mind. Let someone else deal with her. I don't need to be around her to love her, I can love her from a distance.

After a long and excruciating battle with Alzheimer's, my grandma passed away.

I thought I could start over and reinvent myself in an environment that was mainly foreign to me.

Instead, I found myself in the same situation again. I blame it on Karma.

I am living with yet another grandma who is captured in the early stages of Alzheimer's.

No problem, I thought. I know how this illness unfolds, this time I can deal with it and make the right decisions. 

But I catch myself every day making excuses again: now your bad decisions are based on your living conditions, I'm entitled to make these decisions because of the contrasting circumstances.

Wrong. The fact is that I choose to make the same poor decisions again. 

It's like I am scared to change my approach to situations caused by this disease because I could give this illness possible innings to take up permanent residency in my life.

Do I regret the decisions I made? Yes. But what I regret more is the lack of emotions when I think about what I did and are still doing. I do feel bad, but it's like I feel the muted version of my emotions.

In some rare moments of silence, I feel tears of regret running down my face and I wish I could reconstruct myself!