It’s very easy for caregivers to become overwhelmed and to isolate when providing care to someone with a memory disorder. It’s physically exhausting and mentally depleting and sometimes spiritually defeating. I always think it’s helpful to offer the caregiver a change in venue, conversations and exposure with people who are not coming from a place of need.
Depression is very common in caregivers and those diagnosed. My father went through a stage where he was so depressed, so guilty, so despondent, that he would go into his room at night, close his door and we didn’t think we would get him back. It was when he was able to reevaluate his relationship with his mother to grieve for the one that had passed and to embrace the one that was now reality that he began to emerge from his self-imposed cocoon of isolation. People always want to help, but when you ask a caregiver what they need, they almost always tell you “nothing.” The idea is to show up offering something anyway; a non-judgmental listening ear, a dinner, an hour away, an offer to run errands, a card, a plant, anything to show the caregiver that they are not alone.
When I look back on the few memories I have of my grandfather before his diagnosis, what I miss the most is dancing with my feet on top of his at his annual company Christmas party. What do you miss most about your mother before she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and how does your family keep those memories alive?
Every time I travel anywhere, I miss my mother. She was always ready for a road trip and an adventure. Her laughter was easy and she shared it with anyone. I miss her spirit of spontaneity. I miss long talks over hot cups of coffee. I miss beating the eggs and pouring the sugar to make a chocolate cake. And I miss picking up the phone knowing that her voice would be the most comforting thing I could hear on the other end of the line. When my mother began to disappear because of this disease, I began to scrapbook. It has been incredibly helpful to keep her memory alive through the pages of my scrapbooks. Somehow I feel as if I’m having a chance to finish her story and set the record straight about her life.
