A Day of Thanksgiving

Today was a very special day as we hosted a Thanksgiving dinner for our Memory Care Residents and their families. There were many smiles, a few tears and lots of good memories made. It gave us all a chance to see the love of family as each Resident hosted their family on this special day. Talk turned to memories of Thanksgiving past, children being small now grown, loved ones who are no longer here to share the day and more. 

Appetites were hearty as we all enjoyed the turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie and more. Residents who often struggle to sit and enjoy a whole meal were relaxed and smiling. Conversation flowed as freely as the food. No one seemed rushed or anxious. Family photos were taken and shared on cell phones. It was almost an odd sight to see the traditional dinner and the sight of the cell phones, but it made it possible for family members to join us from afar. 

It was my honor to read a poem I had written as we did our annual Candlelighting Ceremony in honor of all those living with dementia. There was such a stillness in the room as we all took a few moments to honor the living and remember those who are gone. I am so thankful to know and love these Residents and their families. I truly cherish the moments I get to spend with them. It was easy to thank our families for allowing us to share in their journey as we care for their loved ones. It truly was a day of thanks giving!

All is not lost...

So often I see people acting like someone with dementia is already gone. They will often no longer look them in the eyes, touch becomes less frequent, and conversation diminishes. Does this happen because the disease takes people away or because we no longer look at them in the same way any longer?

I love seeing a light come into someone's eyes when I can connect with her or him. I always get close so we can make eye contact. I usually touch the person, often holding their hand as we look deep into each other's eyes. I begin a conversation, hoping the person will join in. This may be with words, a smile, or a squeeze of my hand. It doesn't really matter to me how we connect...it's more important that we connect. I will often sing an old familiar song which often brings a soft voice singing with me. It may not be all the words, but the music is there. The person is still there. We just have to reach them.

It seems to me that we give up trying to connect. When Mom can't remember the grandchildren or that Dad died 5 years ago, we often begin to pull away. As we pull away we watch our loved one retreat deeper into their own world where they live in memories. That's why they often tell us that Aunt Esther and Uncle Ed stopped by today. We begin to think they surely must have lost their mind because Aunt Esther died 25 years ago and Uncle Ed passed 10 years ago. How can Mom possibly believe that she saw them...she has to be crazy, right?

But the pages of our memories often flutter as we relive times in our lives. Some days we may be remembering long ago. Other days it may be on a more recent page of memories. We can help them to enjoy these fleeting memories just by letting them open up and talk about Aunt Esther or Uncle Ed. You might even hear some wonderful families stories that you never knew. Don't worry if the facts aren't perfect. This is not a history class...this is about the feelings! And just remember...All is not lost, it's just temporarily forgotten to be remembered another day.