So I put this image aside, thinking it was a total failure, because it didn't reach my particular vision. But mom laughed so hard, I eventually, for fun, decided to post it online anyway. It got an incredible amount of attention.
我把这张影像放到一边去， 认为它完全是失败之作， 因为它没有达到 我想像中的那个样子。 但我妈妈笑得好用力， 最终，为了好玩， 我还是决定把它放上网。 它得到了非常大量的关注。
Now, with any Alzheimer's, dementia, there's a certain amount of frustration and sadness for everyone involved. This is mom's silent scream. Her words to me one day were, "Why is my head so full of things to say, but before they reach my mouth, I forget what they are?" "Why is my head so full of things to say, but before they reach my mouth, I forget what they are?"
不论是阿兹海默、失智症， 任何相关的人都免不了 会有一定的挫折感和感伤。 这是妈妈的沉默尖叫。 有一天，她对我说的是： “为什么我的脑中满满都是 我想要说的东西， 但它们到我的嘴巴之前， 我就已经把它们都忘了？” “为什么我的脑中满满都是 我想要说的东西， 但它们到我的嘴巴之前， 我就已经把它们都忘了？”
（掌声）
Now, as full-time care partner and full-time painter, I had my frustrations too.
身为全职的照护伙伴 以及全职的画家， 我也会有我的挫折感。
（笑声）
But to balance off all the difficulties, we played. That was mom's happy place. And I needed her to be there, too.
但我们会用玩乐来平衡 所有这些难处。 那是我妈妈能感到快乐的地方。 我也需要她在那里。
（笑声）
（笑声）
（笑声）
Now, mom was also preoccupied with aging. She would say, "How did I get so old, so fast?"
妈妈会一直想着“变老”这件事。 她会说：“我怎么会 这么快就变得这么老？”
(Audience sighs)
（观众叹气）
"So old." "So fast."
“这么老。” “这么快。”
I also got mom to model for my oil paintings. This painting is called "The Dressmaker." I remember, as a kid, mom sewing clothes for the whole family on this massive, heavy sewing machine that was bolted to the floor in the basement. Many nights, I would go downstairs and bring my schoolwork with me. I would sit behind her in this overstuffed chair. The low hum of the huge motor and the repetitive stitching sounds were comforting to me. When mom moved into my house, I saved this machine and stored it in my studio for safekeeping. This painting brought me back to my childhood. The interesting part was that it was now mom, sitting behind me, watching me paint her working on that very same machine she sewed at when I sat behind her, watching her sew, 50 years earlier.
我也让妈妈当我油画的模特儿。 这幅画叫做“裁缝师”。 我记得，我小时候， 妈妈会为全家人缝衣服， 用的是一台又大又重的缝纫机， 放在地下室，固定在地板上。 许多晚上，我会带着 我的学校作业下楼去。 我会坐在她身后一张 垫得又软又厚的椅子上。 巨大马达的低沉嗡嗡声， 以及不断重覆的缝纫声， 很能安抚我。 当妈妈搬到我家来时， 我保存了这台机器， 把它保存在我的工作室里。 这幅画把我带回了我的童年。 有趣的是， 现在是我妈妈坐在我身后， 看着我画她， 我现在用的就是当年 她用来缝纫的机器， 只是当时是我坐在 她身后，看着她缝纫， 那是五十年前。
I also gave mom a project to do, to keep her busy and thinking. I provided her with a small camera and asked her to take at least 10 pictures a day of anything she wanted. These are mom's photographs. She's never held a camera in her life before this. She was 93. We would sit down together and talk about our work. I would try to explain
我也给了妈妈一个专案计划， 让她能有事可以忙且持续思考。 我给了她一台小型相机， 要她每天至少拍十张相片， 拍任何她想拍的东西。 这些是妈妈拍的照片。 在这之前，她从来没有拿过相机。 她九十三岁。 我们会一起坐下来， 谈论我们的作品。 我会试着解释
（笑声）
how and why I did them, the meaning, the feeling, why they were relevant. Mom, on the other hand, would just bluntly say, "sì," "no," "bella" or "bruta."
我如何／为什么做这些作品， 意义是什么、感觉是什么、 这些有什么重要的。 另一方面，妈妈只会很直率地说： “是。” “不。” “美丽”或“畜牲”。
（笑声）
I watched her facial expressions. She always had the last say, with words or without.
我看着她的面部表情。 任何事最后一定由她决定， 不论是不是用言语表达。
This voyage of discovery hasn't ended with mom. She is now in an assisted living residence, a 10-minute walk away from my home. I visit her every other day. Her dementia had gotten to the point where it was unsafe for her to be in my house. It has a lot of stairs. She doesn't know my name anymore. (Voice breaking) But you know what? That's OK. She still recognizes my face and always has a big smile when she sees me.
