In recent months I have faced the challenging role of being sandwiched between an ageing parent, my children, and the role of a grandparent. Each has fabulous rewards, but they also come with challenges. Thank the Lord that I have the time to devote to each.

As I sat listening to Elvis Costello’s Veronica, I could not help but reflect on the last few months with my ageing and, sadly, now Alzheimer-affected natural mother. My natural mother came into my life around 30 years ago when adoption laws changed in my state, and my desire to meet my natural mother became more important to me. My keenness to meet my natural mother was certainly not through any lack of love and affection from my parents, who, from the time they adopted me until their death, were the most loving, caring and wonderful parents you could ever wish to meet. I was blessed not just by them, but by my fabulous sister and, subsequently, my wife (my favourite person), along with three wonderful children and now grandchildren.

After the birth of our third child 30 years ago, it was clear that there was a heritage that I wanted to know about. Over the subsequent 30 years, I have gotten to know my natural mother, Veronica, as I will refer to her. I see more as a cherished aunt than a parent. For most of the time, it has been a distant, somewhat secret relationship, the latter very much at her insistence. Thankfully, her desire in recent years for that relationship to become more public has allowed me to become part of a broader, new to me family. My natural family are Italian, with Sicilan roots. My own family and I have been welcomed into it, enabling us to meet my cousins and their families.  Our interactions with them are infrequent but important.

Veronica had lived in Melbourne for around 50 years. The end of Covid movement restrictions meant Veronica could move from where she lived in Victoria to be closer to us in Adelaide. She moved into a lovely retirement community just a few minutes from us and also our daughter and, therefore, her great-grandchildren. Truth be told, her desire to get to know her great-grandchildren was her motivation to move.

Regular visits to my daughter to see her great-grandchildren have been wonderful for her, as have the visits from Veronica’s nieces, one with whom she has a much cherished relationship.

However, as Christmas approached last year, it was clear that things were changing. It was more than Veronica being hard of hearing. She was repeating herself, and she lacked comprehension of time etc. The symptoms were becoming too hard to ignore. Sadly a couple of months ago, a situation occurred that meant we needed to review her living arrangements. It became clear that onsite carer support, daily visits from her wonderful carer, my regular visits, shopping for her, and regular phone calls at all hours (as well as visits) to assure her were no longer enough. As a result, I decided to investigate moving Veronica into residential care.

Initially, Veronica was reluctant and upset with me. My daughter suggested I used my stored goodwill to push for the move. Thankfully, a reassuring call from a trusted relative and a good night’s rest made her see it was sadly necessary.

Elvis Costello says that his inspiration for Veronica was his grandmother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. Just as the inspiration for Elvis Costello’s story was Catholic, my natural mother is too. Her Catholicism is a great comfort to her, for which I am eternally grateful. Perhaps without it, I might not be here!

Her decision to put me up for adoption was a true blessing. In the late 1950s, doing otherwise would have made her and my life Hell. Instead, I was brought up in a loving, caring family, and she was able to lead her life. Sadly, the person missing in her life did not become prominent until she was in her late 50s, but at least we have had the last 30 years to get to know each other, and in the last 25 years, her grandchildren and, more recently, her great-grandchildren. I’d hoped to have much more time to get to know her, but sadly Alzheimer’s is depriving me of that opportunity as it is of maximising her enjoyment of time with our family. That said, visits to see her great grand-children are still a regular and enjoyable occurrence. While I am very so sad that my grandchildren did not meet my parents, they will at least have memories of Great Nonna, as they call her.

Elvis Costello gives dignity to his grandmother through the lyrics. There is sadness and poignancy, but it is not mushy. His words highlight the moments of lucidity and the fantasies that manifest themselves within the disease. My experiences with my natural mother are very much the same.

As I see my natural mother descend into this disease, I enjoy those days when she reminisces about her school days and singing. I am sorry that she is no longer the lady who set up trading entities in Asia as a trusted employee of a sizeable business. I love the photo of her sitting in a restaurant in Singapore enjoying a meal with a local acquaintance and the pictures of her in the US with a great-niece when she was the favourite aunt.

I am thrilled to have had good times with Veronica and pleased that I can support and care for her in her later years. More importantly, I cherish her trust in me doing this for her.