I have had the privilege of sharing zoom calls with three families in the last two weeks.  Families who are moving beyond the stage of shock following their loved one’s diagnosis of dementia.  Families for whom this is the first conversation with a healthcare professional and dementia specialist after receiving the diagnosis.  Families who share, through their tears and their words, that they have long suspected a problem with their loved one’s memory.  

At the beginning of our zoom calls, they express grief, and fear, and uncertainty.  They share that they are feeling lost as far as how to help, what to do.  They desire to help but do not know where to start.  

As we chat, I help them see that they can learn how to help their loved one live a life that is rich and vibrant, a life that continues to have a sense of meaning, and beauty.  A life that is changed, yes, but not over.  And I help them see that as they learn how to get it right with dementia, they, too, can continue to enjoy a life that has meaning and beauty and richness, even as a carer for someone with dementia.

I lead them onto the “getting it right with dementia” path.  A path that includes learning the DAWN Method (I use the DAWN Method every day and it works!).  A path that brings together the entire support team of friends and family and neighbors; where I am able to teach them how to support their loved one, even if they live in another state, or another country.  A path that includes bringing in a team of carers, possibly friends or family or maybe folks we hire; people who become trained in the DAWN Method and become dementia-specialist companions, while bringing support and respite for the primary caregivers.  

But the foundation of what I am really doing is the first most important thing for those who care about someone living with dementia.  The foundation of what I am really doing is that I am giving HOPE.  Hope that they can learn how to help their loved one with dementia live a good and meaningful life until they breathe their last.  Hope that those taking care can survive the process.  Hope that friends and family can have an important role, even from across the country or across the globe.  Hope that dementia does not have to be all bad.  Hope that there can be beauty, and humor, and good in the journey.

It is an honor to watch as families and friends take a deep breath for the first time in a really long time, as they get a glimpse that the dementia journey can be okay.  Hope is the first most important thing, and I am honored to be a messenger.

Breathing deep,

Jill

© Jill Couch