Too old to change...

I left Moscow to move to Boulder, CO, when I was 28 years old. I talked to my family on the phone once a week and visited them a couple of times a year. Despite their deep love and pride in me, my life was very separate from theirs. After my Dad passed away in 2004, I brought my mother here (the reasons for which are a separate story). This new situation was perceived by both me and my mother as very temporary, given my mom's inevitable and imminent death. This assumption influenced everything; if Dad dies, she will follow soon!

This assumption colored everything. Firstly, I did everything possible for her: got her an apartment, took her on trips and cruises, and bought her nice things—all excessively, all the best for my "dying" mom. Instead, I should have considered her citizenship and medical insurance. Secondly, she decided that she should not and could not learn anything necessary for living in a new country—learning English, adapting to a new lifestyle. But why bother? These efforts seemed futile to her, as she believed she would be gone soon. Seriously. I never verbalized this, but she did: "I am too old to learn anything!" or "I am too old to make new friends!" etc.

Several years later, she broke her arm, the first ring in a series of challenges. Still, I paid $17,000 for the surgery without bothering to get insurance. A couple of years after that, she needed a pacemaker (with a price tag of $80,000), leading us to get her Medicaid (as she was not eligible for anything else, and there is no way in the US to add your parent to your insurance through work!). Medicaid was swiftly taken away, and I had to work on making her a citizen to get it back. This demanded 100% attention for many months, as she did not speak English! But we managed. So, we did almost everything needed to live in this country, but either too late or in the wrong order.

Now 20 years later, my mother depends on me for everything: communication with the world—doctors, banks, landlords; driving; entertainment; dealing with technology (Internet and phone); and travel for fun and to visit my brother (I would fly to Moscow to drop her off and pick her up). The root of many of these dependencies was her refusal to learn English and embrace the new way of life. She became so accustomed to me doing everything for her! While it's somewhat typical for many mother-daughter relationships when the mother gets old, it was much worse for us because she never adapted properly, and I didn't insist on it, assuming it was just too late for her to change.