With an increasing number of voices promoting physician-assisted death as a means of avoiding advanced dementia, we need to let our elderly family members know that they are valuable and cherished
by Heidi Klessig, M.D.
In a world driven by the pursuit of personal peace and prosperity, the elderly and disabled often get left behind. In honor of Mother’s Day and this month’s upcoming Dementia Awareness Week, I’d like to share some practical tips from our family’s experience in caring for my elderly mother who has dementia.
My husband and I view caring for our elderly parents as a sacred duty, though we know every situation is unique. My father, a double amputee, required nursing home care. My father-in-law lived independently with some help. For nearly twelve years, we have cared for my mother in our home as her dementia has worsened. There is no “one size fits all,” but here are some things that have helped us.
First, caring for someone with dementia is not a solo job. As symptoms progress and your loved one can’t be left alone, you’ll need at least two people involved. My husband and I are Mom’s main caregivers, and family members have given us breaks over the years. While rewarding, caregiving can be emotionally and physically taxing. Having a partner in this work has drawn my husband and me closer—we take turns and support each other.
Establishing a trusting relationship with Mom early on was key. When she first moved in, we created a dependable routine—consistency is crucial when memory fails. We explain things slowly and repeatedly, often using post-it notes. I remind myself how many times she patiently repeated things to me as a child.
Routines help everyone sleep better. Mom likes to sleep in, so I serve Swiss muesli, which she enjoys hot or cold. This gives me flexibility to get things done while she rests. As her dementia progressed, she began avoiding meals that required cutting or scooping. So for lunch, we serve finger foods—sandwiches, fruit, carrots, cookies—anything easy and appealing. For dinner, we prepare her plate with food already cut and buttered so she can eat comfortably without feeling “babied.”
After dinner, my husband spends time with her watching television or playing a simple game. I help her get ready for bed—pills, nightgown, a glass of water, and a bathroom light left on. She always asks if I have a long drive home and smiles when I remind her I live in the same house. Even when she doesn’t remember my name, she remains loving and motherly.
Medication has helped reduce Mom’s anxiety. She takes an antidepressant and a dementia drug called rivastigmine, which has helped greatly. Not every drug works the same for everyone, and we are thankful her doctors have worked closely with us to find what’s best for her. Medication alone isn’t enough—Mom responds to our mood, so we try to provide constant smiles and reassurance.
Since caregiving requires spending lots of time at home, I recommend pursuing enjoyable and enriching activities there. This helps keep your own brain flexible. For example, because Mom is Swiss, I started brushing up on my college German to comfort her with her native language. I’ve also started taking piano lessons—something I’ve always wanted to do.
Though the work is demanding, the benefits outweigh the costs. My sister-in-law once said, “You have all the work, but in the end, you are the lucky ones: you have all the memories.” On hard days—like cleaning up after accidents—I remind myself that whatever we do “for the least of these,” we do for Our Lord. My mom did many such “dirty jobs” for me when I was little.
We just celebrated Mom’s 88th birthday, and her joy at seeing her children and grandchildren was priceless. With growing support for physician-assisted death as a way to avoid advanced dementia, it’s more important than ever to let our elderly loved ones know that they are not a burden. As a wise mentor once told me: “You are not a burden; you make our lives richer.” LifeSite.
This article was shortened to fit space.
