On my mother’s 87th birthday, I called her from the airport in Washington, D.C. on my way home from a meeting. I explained that my flight was delayed but we would celebrate together the following day. Interpreted through the lens of her cognitive disability, Mom heard the word "airport" and the world became immediately transformed.
She instantly rearranged the characters of the play, changed costumes and switched the stage backdrop. The nursing home where she lives was suddenly reconfigured into Gate 27. “We’re here in Brooklyn,” she said with excitement in her voice, “just waiting to get on the plane. We had a wonderful trip and the weather was nice but it sure will be good to get home.”
"I'm so happy you’ve had such a great time, Mom," I said. "I can't wait to hear all about your trip! We missed you! Travel safe!”
Her plane would be boarding soon so she had to hang up.
I was left still waiting for my delayed flight but Mom had already taken off! One word – airport - had clearly triggered a vivid memory buried somewhere in her brilliant but tangled mind. Perhaps she was reliving one of the many journeys she took with my Dad before he died four years ago and before her accident that left her with paralysis and dementia. Maybe it was an unspoken longing to be able to travel again.
One thing was certain: her airport experience would be long forgotten by the time I saw her.
Over the past seven years, I’ve learned how to simply be with my Mom during our daily visits wherever she is and to accept her not as I remember her, but as she is now. This understanding is due in part to the example of a wise and compassionate team of senior volunteers who serve together in the Area Agency on Aging’s Senior Companion Program.
During extensive training, volunteers learn, among other things, how to communicate with the people they assist each day. Many of their ‘clients’ – other seniors and people with disabilities – live with Alzheimer’s disease or other forms of dementia.
Last month, volunteers discussed the book, I Was Thinking: Unlocking the Door to Successful Conversations with Loved Ones with Cognitive Loss, by Diana Waugh, RN, BSN. In the book, Ms. Waugh presents contrasting dialogues, first in a way that is not helpful followed by a re-take with the same people and a little different approach.
She reminds us of forbidden words when talking to people with cognitive loss: “No”, and the phrase, “Don’t you remember?”
“No, Mom. I’m the one in the airport. Don’t you remember that I’ve been in Washington for a meeting? We talked about that before I left.”
That version of the conversation, as Ms. Waugh explains, would most likely have left my Mom frustrated, embarrassed and agitated. Transferring to her airport allowed us to connect for that short time. If I had been with her in person rather than on the phone, we could have extended the conversation further talking about the sights and sounds of favorite places she and my Dad had visited.
Although I am only one daughter, hundreds of people with challenges like my Mom’s receive assistance from my mentors - Senior Companion volunteers. If you are a caregiver, would the person you love and care for enjoy spending time with a specially trained, experienced volunteer? Would you like to have an occasional break from the 24/7 commitment of caregiving? Call 269-983-7058 to learn how you as well as the person you care for can experience the gift of assistance, care and friendship.
No boarding pass required. Destination unknown. Patience, compassion and care guaranteed!
