Angela Finn | Sydney

How love feels

Dementia leads to new connections

How can I help Mum to live a life she enjoys?

That’s the challenge of living with and caring for my 88-year-old Mum, who has dementia.

The loss of independence and Mum’s diminished ability to read, write, concentrate and converse means the “usual ways” in which she enjoyed life are over.

Yet Mum’s interest in life and sharing experiences with others has not diminished.

Her love of people, the arts, nature, history, politics and social justice remains.

The challenge is to find new ways for Mum to connect and actively participate in life. 

So I was thrilled to discover the Art Access Program at the NSW Art Gallery for people living with dementia.

Last month, Mum and I attended the program. For one-and-a-half hours, we entered a world of visual delight, imagination and story-telling.

The facilitator, Danielle Gullotta, Senior Access Programs Producer used inquiry-based techniques to help us interpret three selected artworks through observation, discussion, and stories.

Our favourite artwork was “clouds and undercurrent” by Judy Watson. An indigenous artist who lives and works on Jagera/Turrbal Country, Meanjin (Brisbane)

For 30 minutes, we inhabited the space. We sat from afar and gazed; we watched people engage with the art. We listened to the sounds. We walked around and got up close to admire the intricacies of Judy’s beautiful work.

Judy’s artwork conveys calmness. Her use of indigo, acrylic, natural pigments, embellishments on canvas, bunya pine leaves, nets, vinyl and sound sparked our imaginations and prompted us to express our connection to the ocean and the beach. 

Mum said she feels joy feeling the sand between her toes and watching children play and run from the water’s edge as they squeal and laugh with excitement.

Mum spoke of the sense of freedom she feels when floating in the ocean. I love the sound of the waves crashing and the dynamic seascape, which reminds me that life is ever-changing.

We saw two other art installations, and although Mum didn’t feel a strong association as she did with Judy’s work, she appreciated the talents of the artists.

Mum might forget the outing, but not me. And even if she does, it doesn’t matter, for what is important is the moment we shared. And the enjoyment the activity provided us.

I loved experiencing art in such a new and profound way. And, I enjoyed doing something with Mum that was unrelated to the everyday activities of caring for her.

I am discovering that visual, sensory and auditory activities and experiences are the new ways to connect and communicate with Mum.  

Thank you NSW Art Gallery for this program.

Read more information about Art Access programs

The value of hard work

Marriage is hard work.

It involves deep emotional connections; it takes effort, vulnerability, and it’s risky because it might fail.

We can’t possibly know what our life is going to be like when we marry someone. 

We make a choice based on a whole lot of reasons – instinctual and intellectual. 

Whether that choice works out well is mainly dependent on the hard work each person makes in the marriage. 

Part of that hard work is dealing with and embracing the in-laws.  

It’s not always easy. Like any relationship, effort and compromise are required. 

But if both parties do the hard work, the return on investment is worth it.  

My experience

Thirty-three years ago, I became the first in-law – now one of seven – of Pat and Neil Finn.

They embraced me as part of their family, and I embraced them as my other Mum and Dad. 

When I married Joe, I had no idea of the positive impact and influence of his parents, Pat and Neil, and their family on my life. 

I learned from my in-laws to “stay positive, get creative and make things happen. Learn from the difficult times, practice gratitude, focus on what you can control, not what you can’t, and most of all love big, have fun and enjoy life”.

Pat and Neil set the example of their marriage and the value of hard work.

No regrets

At 88 years, suffering from cancer, Mum Finn knew death was coming, but she didn’t shy away from the hard work of dying. 

She set the expectation and her family followed suit.

When Mum got home from the hospital the family took over her care.

They made a roster and worked day and night shifts – taking turns to care and look after Mum. Learning on the job and doing what was required with love, respect and humour.

The experience of Mum’s death is a gift.

Visits from friends and family to say farewell highlighted the richness of life with stories shared, laughter enjoyed and tears shed.

Precious memories with Mum, and with each other were shared. And new memories made.

Love from the past and the present filled Mum’s room. Her mother’s crocheted quilt draped her bed providing comfort and warmth.

Last Monday night, as I was giving Mum a head massage, the tears rolled down my cheeks onto her face. She said, “Angie, you’re tired. Make sure you rest and look after yourself”. 

Another time, when I whispered in her ear how much I loved her, she said, “I love you too. Ange, I’ve had a great life, I’m ready to go”.

Pat died a few days later, Friday 21 May 2021 in her home, surrounded by her loving family.  

The rewards of hard work

Mum Finn led by example. 

She loved and cared for her parents and family, her husband of fifty-six years, her seven children, her seven in-laws, her twenty grandchildren, her many friends and her community. 

Mum’s attitude, humility, sense of fun, love, care and generousity endeared her to everyone. She made everybody feel like somebody. 

Mum and Dad Finn’s marriage was a great example of love, respect, teamwork and commitment. They never shied away from hard work and they reaped the rewards.  

What are you waiting for?

Lately, I’ve been decluttering.

Downsizing my home has forced me to re-evaluate the need to hang on to items.

It’s been an arduous task because I don’t like waste, so instead of tossing the items in a bin, I try to repurpose them.

I either sell the items on Marketplace, or donate them to charity.

But when I came across my 1988 wedding dress, scrunched in a bag, I was faced with a dilemma as to what to do with it.

Stored for 33 years, the fabric had brown oxidation spots, mould and mildew growth.

So on-trend in 1988, my wedding dress featured slim long sleeves with voluminous puffy shoulders, lace overlays and an oversized bow on the back.

I had kept the dress for sentimental reasons, but now it seemed pointless to keep it when it was never going to be worn again.

What could I do with it?

How could I bring new meaning to my wedding dress?

I had an idea. And it involved a couple of “old girls”.

This past year, I have been particularly mindful to spend more time with my two Mum’s.

Both 88 years old, my mother Pam has dementia, and my mother-in-law, Pat has cancer.

Making time and giving attention to Pam and Pat is sometimes challenging.

Why? Well, life is busy and I have things I want to do! And spending time with “the Mum’s” requires me to slow down, exercise patience and be considerate.

But, I know I am very lucky that I live close to my Mum’s and that I have this opportunity, so I try to make the most of it.

Besides, my Mum’s are gold. Precious, wise women who are living treasures.

So, I took my Mum – and the dress – to my mother-in-law’s place and asked them if they would “unpick” the lace pieces from the dress and remove the buttons.

Both women – once adept at sewing – struggled with the task.

  • Pam
  • Pat

Pam’s dementia has impaired her fine motor skills and cognitive function. Pat’s physical impairments have caused stiffness and swelling in her hands limiting their functionality.

But it did not matter.

Together we laid that dress out, and we got to work.

The three of us – using sight, smell and touch – laughed and reminisced about my wedding day.

As I watched Pat and Pam’s hands at work, I was reminded of the poem My Mother’s Hands by Te’Werner.

She writes of “hands that hold our family together”. Hands that have wiped tears and caressed cheeks. Hands that have cooked meals, made beds, wrapped gifts, nestled soft babies, and rubbed sore muscles. Giving hands. Working hands. Strong Hands.

Capturing the moment

My husband photographed our mother’s hands at work.

Making memories and sharing new experiences with Pam and Pat are priceless. So I wanted the moment captured to have images to share with future generations.

One day, maybe a family member might incorporate a lace piece, a button or the bow from my wedding dress into their wedding attire, knowing that Pam and Pat are part of the story.

I feel so happy that my wedding dress became a perfect opportunity to engage, have fun and create a special memory with “the Mum’s”.

With Mother’s Day coming up, it’s worth remembering that it is not things, like chocolates or flowers, that people want most. It is human interaction.

Time and attention are the most precious gifts you can give to your Mum.

So don’t wait. Make it happen. You can.

The confusion about consent and time

In Australia, consent to marry means both parties agree to the marriage and understand the union’s nature. Plus, no force is used upon either person to get married. 

Consent is an act of reason and deliberation – requiring time.

In Australia, the time period to satisfy consent is a minimum of one month. 

Under Australian law, a couple must complete, sign and give a Notice of Intended Marriage to a Commonwealth Registered Marriage Celebrant at least one month before they marry.    

Why one month? 

I suspect the law’s origin is a Christian tradition called “Banns”. 

Banns were a public announcement of an impending marriage between two specified persons made in a church or town council over 3–4-weeks.  

Banns’ purpose was to allow time. 

Time for the news to spread. Time for anyone to put forward a reason why the marriage may not lawfully take place. And time to investigate any claims. 

It was also time for a couple to deliberate their understanding and decision to marry. Plus, consider the intended spouse’s suitability. 

Pre-marriage education helped to satisfy reason and deliberation. An opportunity for the couple to learn and examine the legal, social and religious nature of marriage. Plus, discuss their beliefs, expectations, and roles in marriage. As well as topics such as conflict management, finance, family planning, parenting and communication styles. 

Today, arguments exist whether the one-month notice period is necessary or useful to the couple and to society. That if a couple is of age and of consent, what difference is it if they want to marry today or in a month?

Does the notice period satisfy there has been adequate reason and deliberation given to the decision to marry by the couple? Not necessarily. But it’s a safety net.

It’s allowing time and ‘potential’ opportunity for the couple to deliberate their reason to marry, to help prevent or minimise ‘spur of the moment rash decisions’. 

There is no legal requirement to use the notice period for marriage preparation to demonstrate a level of reason and deliberation. 

Determining a couple’s understanding, reason, and deliberation to marry is satisfied if the couple meets the law’s requirements. 

Consent to marry requires the parties to complete and sign the legal paperwork. Plus, say to one another – during the ceremony in front of the witnesses – that they take the other party as a lawful wedded partner/husband/wife. 

A Celebrant must ensure the couple receives an information leaflet about getting married and some important legal consequences of getting married. Plus include a statement (the ‘monitum’) in the marriage ceremony to explain (remind) a couple of the nature of the marriage relationship the couple has agreed to enter according to Australian law. 

Apart from meeting the legal requirements to marry, a Celebrant uses their skill-set, understanding, and approach to marriage to determine whether the couple gives consent to marry. The time this takes varies from Celebrant to Celebrant, couple to couple. 

The argument for reducing the current one-month notice period comes down to costs, gains, and perceived value – for and by whom.  

It comes down to an understanding of consent. And how to determine reason and deliberation when it comes to consent to marry.

COVID lockdown led to chocolate addiction

Chocolate is happiness. An affordable luxury or so I thought until the COVID 19 lockdown which turned my love of chocolate into an addiction. 

My name is Angela Finn, and I am a “Haighsaholic”. I have a Haigh’s use disorder.

There are Haighsaholics in every city and regional town in Australia.

Men, women and children seeking comfort and escapism as they devour premium quality chocolates made by the oldest family-owned chocolate -maker in Australia.

Before the COVID 19 lockdown, I was your occasional Haigh’s chocolate consumer – enjoyed as treat on a visit to the Sydney CBD, or as a gift.

But the lockdown brought a sudden rapid change to my lifestyle. I was now working from home plus living with my 87-year-old mother with dementia. 

This unexpected change and increase in responsibility wreaked havoc on my stress levels. Urgently needing to release the pressure valve, I turned to Haigh’s as a reward. A pleasure that signalled freedom.

Escaping from the confines of the home, a 30-minute round trip during my lunch break to the Haigh’s shop was utter joy.    

The anticipation of the smell and taste of Haigh’s chocolates drove my desire as I weaved in and out of traffic. Every red light was agony.

With my adrenalin soaring, my arrival at the store brought overwhelming relief.

Upon purchase, I’d open the quality paper bag and raise it to my nose to smell the sweet aroma of the chocolates. The intoxicated feeling was instant.

The act of drawing each chocolate out of the bag, examining perfection, and then “shoving” it into my mouth for a rapid “hit” of chocolate filled every inch of my body and mind with ecstasy.

But with my finances, cravings, and waistline soaring out of control, my behaviour and relationship with Haighs took a nasty turn.

I began to resent Haigh’s, particularly John Haigh (deceased) who as the grandson of the founder Alfred E Haigh, transformed Haigh’s into a premium quality chocolate, achieving international acclaim.

To John’s credit, he developed the “high-end’ Haigh’s in-store experience. Coupled with a marketing approach that oozes exclusivity. A style – I believe – not only drives incredible sales but fuels addiction.

Now, while I admit that I am responsible for my Haigh’s addiction, the behaviour of Haigh’s during the lockdown period caused a bad taste in my mouth.  

Their COVID 19 safe policy of insisting their customers pay by card rather than cash might seem a responsible thing to do, but for me it was not.

A little tap, tap, tap by the card day after day made spending too easy. Plus, I couldn’t hide my spending. The impending fear of being ‘found out’ was agonizing. It was but a matter of time before my husband would view the credit card statements and reveal my addiction.

What really infuriated me however was when Haigh’s cancelled their “free tastings”. How rude!

These so-called COVID 19 safe practices by Haigh’s caused me to question my relationship with the world-renowned chocolatier.  

Was my relationship with Haigh’s one-sided? It sure felt like the time, energy, and money I invested in Haigh’s was not reciprocated.

And, was Haigh’s using the guise of COVID 19 to save money and drive sales? Plus take advantage of the vulnerability of their customers during the pandemic?

Like, why didn’t Haigh’s provide their consumers with any financial relief during the lockdown by way of special sales or offers?

The only decent special available during lockdown was the reduced prices on Easter egg products following the Easter break.  

In one month, I ate around twenty-five packets of broken easter eggs and numerous packs of mini chocolate eggs until stocks were gone.  

It took me 4 months to acknowledge that my mood swings and dependency on Haigh’s chocolates were out-of-control.

After reading books about addiction, I decided to go ‘cold turkey’. I ceased my Haigh’s consumption completely plus adopted new stress management strategies.   

I won’t go into the “how”, but I can reveal that I am 6 kgs lighter than I was at the end of August.

It wasn’t easy. But it feels good to regain control over my decisions around chocolate consumption.  I feel happier, freer. 

I am however still cheesed off at Haigh’s. 

While the “free chocolate tastings have resumed, it really annoys me that the tastings rarely include the “Cabinet chocolates”. These are the top-shelf, incredibly expensive chocolates that tempt consumers behind the luxurious curved glass cabinet.

If I was Head of Customer Experience at Haigh’s, I would introduce a customer loyalty program full of delightful rewards. Which includes free tastings from the curved glass cabinet, plus monthly specials.

As well as a help-line counselling service for Haighsaholics during stress-filled situations like a COVID 19 lockdown!