Some memories are all about the emotions. It was 50 years ago, but the anger and indignity I felt still surface.
As a kid, I’d loved family reunions. Usually held beside water, I could swim, run around with the three cousins who were close to my age and snack all day from the laden tables. As I got older, I became more aware of gossipy aunts. This gathering happened shortly after my mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, which sent the whole family spinning. Dad was learning to cope and Mom remained Mom to me, but my aunts and uncles were reeling. No one in the family had ever experienced anything like this, and no one understood the disease. What did it mean to my mom? What did it mean to them?
Their talk, like the buzzing of mosquitoes, bothered me but I brushed it away. Then one of them sent up an alarm. My mom had wandered off from the group. Rocketing into panic mode, they began to bustle around, calling her name. I understood their concern, but they seemed to revel in the drama of a situation they had been sure would occur. With uncharacteristic maturity, I headed to the outhouses. Seeing Mom exit one, I linked arms with her and we walked toward the group. I looked daggers at my aunts, trying to send the message to stop chattering about how scared they had been. Distracting Mom with a flowering bush (she loved flowers) I steered her away and she never became aware of the kerfuffle she had caused.
My aunts weren’t malicious, but they had no idea how to talk to or treat someone with dementia, and it showed. My protective stance came more from being my mother’s daughter than any knowledge of what to do. That came many years later after Mom was gone. But a little preparation could have prevented the situation.
Bringing a frail elder, especially one with dementia, to an event that isn’t designed around them, takes some planning. Here are some considerations:
- Evaluate. It’s not the right situation for everyone. At work, we had an annual picnic at a park and Rose enjoyed attending with her daughter, until the year when her anxiety disorder took all the fun out of it. The whole time we were out, she asked when we could go home. We never took her again.
- Educate. Choose a few key people who will be there and able to help. Let them know what might be a problem (such as overwhelming crowds, the need for a washroom, or wandering) and brainstorm possible solutions.
- Understand. What would bring your elder the most joy? Is it the opportunity to hold the newest baby in the family, watching the children at the paddling pool or sitting and chatting with family members he hasn’t seen for a while? Choose one or two activities, and work to make them happen.
- Boundaries. Your elder may enjoy themselves so much that they want to participate until the last sleepy child leaves for bed. Or, they might tire after an hour. Have a contingency plan and be flexible so that going home early is a possibility. Also, it might be a bad day and the activity isn’t working. That’s not a failure on anyone’s part. Adjust your expectations and be flexible.
- Support. Having a regular caregiver along may be a perfect solution. He/she can help with toileting and other routines, giving you and other family members the opportunity to enjoy the time.
With some planning, your summer celebrations can enrich both family and your elder. Go forth and have fun!