In any serious illness, the gold standard of advice is always the same: diagnose it early, and get it treated. But when it comes to Alzheimer’s, that advice hits a devastating wall. There is no cure.
In Singapore, roughly 1 in 10 seniors aged 60 and above suffer from dementia. If your elderly loved one shows temperament changes or sudden forgetfulness, seeking specialised care is crucial. While a general practitioner (GP) is an excellent starting point, having your parent assessed by a geriatric specialist ensures a comprehensive evaluation tailored to complex cognitive needs.
From time to time, we see sweeping headlines about modern medical marvels — like mRNA cancer vaccines or major HIV advancements. But for Alzheimer’s, despite decades of global research, there is still no medical miracle that can reverse or permanently stop the disease. Once the cognitive slide begins, you realize you aren’t fighting a war you can win with medicine. You are fighting a war against time.
So, how do you survive the slow, heartbreaking grief of watching your aging parent fade while simultaneously trying to raise your own children and hold down a demanding, full-time job?
You don’t do it with false hope. You do it with acceptance and mindfulness.
When I say mindfulness, I don’t mean a religious practice, and I am certainly not talking about sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat for hours. I mean secular, survival-level awareness.
Two Pillars of Caregiver Survival
- Radical Acceptance: This means stopping the agonizing internal struggle of wishing things were different. Accepting that my mother cannot remember names and words prevents me from getting frustrated with her. I accept the reality right in front of me, rather than constantly mourning the reality I lost.
- Present-Moment Grounding: When my mother goes into a panic attack over misplaced items, mindfulness is the micro-pause I take before I react. It is the breath that reminds me she isn’t trying to annoy me; her brain is simply misplacing information. In that quiet pause, I shift my perspective: I become thankful that I still have the opportunity to care for her in person. I remind myself of the patience she showed me when I was sick as a child.
Describing these concepts is easy, but putting them into practice is incredibly difficult. From time to time, we will fail at this. We will lose our patience, and we will feel overwhelmed. But when that happens, we must have the gentle resolve to forgive ourselves and steer back onto the path, no matter how difficult it is.
A Lesson from Bright Hill Temple
Years ago, before I fully understood the impacts of Alzheimer’s, I signed my mother up for a meditation session at Bright Hill Temple, hoping it would bring her anxiety some relief. The class was conducted by a disciple of Venerable Hong Choon, a legendary figure in Singapore’s history.
My mother didn’t appreciate the meditation and promptly fell asleep. But the techniques I learned in that room helped me manage periods of immense stress both professionally and personally.
Walking into a temple, you might expect a religious lecture. But this class had zero religious elements to it. I want to emphasize this: meditation is a practical, psychological tool to train the mind, completely stripped of dogma. You do not need to choose or change your religion to practice mindfulness. It belongs to everyone.
A Micro-Exercise
If you are going through a tough time but remain a skeptic, give this micro-exercise a try. It worked for me, and I hope it works for you:
- Find a quiet place where you can sit or lie down comfortably. You can also do this during your morning commute to work.
- Close your eyes and take a deep, slow breath in through your nose. Hold it gently for just a few seconds.
- Breathe out through your nose slowly, focusing your attention entirely on the physical sensation of the air passing over the spot between your upper lip and nose.
- Repeat this for as long as possible. Your mind will wander. Thoughts will rush in, but don’t fight them. Let them flow past like clouds, observe them without judgment, and gently bring your focus back to your breath.
- Open your eyes whenever you feel ready.