The last time I spent time with her, we read her devotions, just like we always did. We enjoyed the flower catalog and one of her scrapbooks, just like usual. We pulled up the hymn “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” and read the lyrics while we sang along.
It was getting harder for her to walk. It was harder for her to remember. Harder for her to do most of what was once so easy.
But the struggle didn’t impact who she was. She was the same person after all, with the same full smile and the same easy laugh.
You see, my friend was experiencing advancing dementia, but she was still “her.” She wasn’t lost to dementia. She was the same gentle, gracious woman who loved her family above anything and everyone. And because of the dementia supportive environment in which she lived with her daughter and son-in-law, she got to remain the same lovely woman. Was her journey easy? No. But it was worthwhile and rich.
Three days after my last visit with her, she breathed her last breath. She was lying in her own bed, holding hands with her daughter, who had lain down beside her to bring her comfort.
She was ninety-five years and one month old. She lived well and finished well. As herself, her lovely, gracious self. Dementia changed her abilities, but it didn’t change who she was. This is how it can be in dementia…when we know how to work with it.
The world would have us believe that we lose our loved ones to dementia and that the best place for people experiencing dementia is in an institution with other people like them.
My experience is that the world has it wrong. We are missing out on the richness of our elders’ experience and perspective. I am endlessly grateful to the DAWN Method for showing me how to enjoy some of the richest moments of my life…while with my companions with dementia.
