Dementia

One of the courses I am taking is psychology for the health care worker. I am currently reading the chapter that deals with the elderly and just finished reading a case study concerning a husband and wife where the wife has dementia. The husband takes care of the wife on his own but in the end puts her in a nursing home.

This sparked a memory for me from when I was a bookkeeper at a nursing home. There was a lovely, kind older gentleman who visited his equally lovely wife every day. When I say every day, I mean every day. The two of them would sit on one of the benches in a common area holding hands while he spoke to those that passed by. He would turn to his wife and explain who the people were and what they were doing. Even though she had no idea who he was or probably where she was she didn't seem to mind the contact and in response to his explanations she would look at you, nod, and smile.

That was all he needed. Holding her hand, sitting next to her, being able to talk to her was enough. He relished each day that he still had with her and even though he knew that one day, possibly in the near future, her mind would further deteriorate, this is what he had now and he would be happy with it.

The love this man demonstrated towards his wife was special. I couldn't help but be drawn to it. It was simple and complete. It didn't demand; it gave. It wasn't forceful but instead kind and patient. It was apropos to the moment not trying to mold or shape. It was a life lesson that I've never forgotten.