Tag Archives: connection

Tips from a care partner’s journey

When I began my caregiving journey, I was, to put it mildly, ill-prepared. I saw only loss, not the person, heard only confusion, not the thoughts. I looked at the clock, always hearing Mom’s voice, “Walk Away.”

When Mom began to paint everything changed. Instead of loss and sadness, we were sharing joy. That was the key. I was able to understand her as a whole person enjoying life. I began to learn, and change, from a very reluctant caregiver to Mom’s very happy partner.

For anyone at the beginning of their caregiver journey, here are some tips from Mom and me.

Smile – a lot.

Don’t Walk Away.  It’s tempting to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter.  That she/he won’t remember it anyway.  

It matters. They may forget everything you said and did in five minutes but the happiness you shared lasts—for them and for you. 

This isn’t about you, how you would feel if you had dementia.  But you don’t. They do and, with your support, they can thrive and live with happiness and purpose.

Remember that you are partners – building the best possible life for both of you. And the cool thing is that your life together can be an exciting process of enrichment and mutual discovery. 

Let go of the person s/he used to be and embrace the person who is with you in the moment. A whole person with a life to live and gifts to give—living with dementia not suffering from.

Let go of the questions designed to bring them back, like “Do you remember?” or “Don’t you remember?”  They only frustrate her and disappoint you. And they will absorb your sadness. Remembering isn’t the goal.  The goal is to live an active life connected to the world around them. 

Enjoy the moment. Unsure about how? Try this first step. Pick something you both enjoy doing. It can be simple: take a walk, look at the view, sing a song, play a game (with Mom it was Scrabble), anything. Just relax and enjoy, together. 

Take them seriously. Ask questions and listen. More often than not they are telling you something.

Remember that we share basic human needs that never leave us – all of us. 

The need for friendship

The need for laughter

The need for purpose

The need to love and be loved.

I hope I can age like Mom, living a life abundant with love, purpose, and friends, fascinated by the world, curious about the future, and filled with laughter—focusing on the positive, accepting the inevitable, and enjoying the ride.

Love you, Mom.

Sharing Joy

Several years ago I met a man who told me about his wife,  who was living in a nursing home and living with dementia. He was so very sad.  

“When I visit her, she knows who I am.  She kisses me and tells me she loves me.  When I look in her eyes there is nothing there and I leave in tears.”

I wondered.  Why could he not see what I most likely would have?  A woman with something to say.

If your relationship with your loved one is defined by sadness and loss, that is all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel.  But if you can share a  moment of happiness, it changes.  You can see and enjoy the person who is still there.

It can be so simple – like Mom’s first painting, or looking at the view, a sunset, taking a walk together.  You can listen to the music she once loved (and probably still does)  and see her face light up with delight.  Or sing.  With Mom, I would begin a song and she would join.  If she didn’t know the words, we would sing the melody together.

At each moment, we were sharing joy and each other.  I hope I can age like Mom, living a life abundant with love, purpose, and friends, fascinated by the world, curious about the future, and filled with laughter—focusing on the positive, accepting the inevitable and enjoying the ride.