We believe that our older folks are to be respected, and treated with dignity.  That we should interact with them in such a way that they feel valued.  That they readily sense that we appreciate their history and the lives they have lived…regardless of how that history might have played out.  

We have the privilege of spending time every day with folks with lots of gray hairs.  And we learn a great deal.  Even folks deep into the progression of dementia teach us…every day.  

Here is just a bit of what we have learned:

“Teach your children this: You are as good as, but no better than.”

“I’m almost 97 years old, and I’m still growing in my faith.”

If I am deep into dementia and have been a provider for my family, I am going to be (understandably!) very frustrated at my growing inability to care for my family.

Noises startle me, and I may not have the cognitive ability to make sense of the noises.  So unless you tell me what the noises are, and let me see that the noise was no big deal, I will likely stay in a startle state (fight or flight), which might cause me to get really upset later on when you ask me to do something like take a shower.

“Squirrels are bad.  I used to trap them and take them to the country and let them go.”  If I see one now, I might just point my cane tip at them and act like I might shoot them…because squirrels are bad.

I worked in a factory, shift work, for 40 years; not because I particularly liked the work, but because I needed to provide for my family.

“Society has changed.”

“As your children become adults, say less.”

I’m going to remember and talk most about the events from the past that were powerful emotional events; times I was embarrassed, times my feelings were hurt or times my heart suffered, times I knew love.  I benefit from being able to talk about these stories…over and over…it helps me reminisce and sort things out.

“We can learn more from animals than we can from the man on the street.”

Nearing a century of living?  Dementia?   This does not mean that folks have fewer meaningful words or less wise lessons to share.  It just means that those of us in their presence need to listen more carefully, and listen with our hearts and our intuitive selves.  Be still, listen well.  You will still hear the voice of wisdom. 

With admiration and respect for our brave friends living through the years, and those living with dementia,   

Jill

©Jill Couch