Staying connected with loved ones with dementia

Visiting someone with dementia requires a full tank – you can’t be physically or mentally depleted. My Mom has had Alzheimers for 10 years, and while she recognizes me and still gets joy from life, she asks the same questions over and over and has a limited conversational repertoire, so she asks about the cost of cars and houses every time I see her.

A butterfly is a symbol of dementia - I took this pic near our home in Forest Lake MN

Since my Dad, who was her primary care giver died a few months ago, my sister and I try to each visit her twice a week. And my niece who is my Mom’s granddaughter visits once a week. Other relatives and friends visit rarely. I get it.

I have to give myself a pep talk every time I go. Fortunately, Mom is well enough to walk from her memory care unit at the senior center to my car. We go for drives, and she marvels at the trees, the weather and everything else she sees outside the confines of her memory care unit.

Getting out makes the visit more fun for both of us – often we stop for a small ice cream or other type of treat. Lately, she has been trying to make sense of death. It’s been three and a half months since my Dad died, and she seems to be starting to process it, despite the fact that she was in the room when he died.

After our drive, when we are back in her small apartment in memory care, she asks if her parents are alive, and I explain that they’ve been gone for some time (25-40 years). Then she asks if my Dad is gone, and I explain that he died a few months ago. “Why does God take all the good ones,” she asks.

“Unfortunately, that’s how life works, Mom,” I say. Then she asks if my parents are alive, and I laugh. “You are my parent,” Mom. And we both laugh together. We go through these questions a few more times, and I tell her she should nap before dinner.

She is tired by the long walk to and from the car and all the mental stimulation from seeing new things, so she agrees to lay down. And I prepare to exit. I tell her who will be there to visit next. Borrowing her favorite phrase, “Behave yourself,” I say as I quietly open the door to her room. “Behave yourself,” she calls.

I’ve enjoyed seeing her, but it’s taken a lot out of me.  I don’t have much energy to do anything more than eat dinner, walk the dog, read and go to bed early. During our next visit, I can report with complete honesty that I have behaved myself.