Snapshots of Dementia: Tender Loving (Self-) Care
Friends and acquaintances often ask me how Tom is doing. The short answer is that there’s no short answer. The long answer? Well, I wrote about that here.
If that question is a FAQ, this next phrase is an FMS: Frequently Made Statement. It comes in several different formats, but they all sound a lot like this:
— “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”
— “Don’t forget to take care of yourself.”
— “You know, you really need to take care of yourself.”
You get the picture: I have friends and family members who want to make sure I’m not lost in the process of caring for Tom. I don’t think a lot about this topic until someone brings it up, but I do find ways of caring for myself.
Just as the rest of our life looks very different now than it did only a few years ago, self-care looks different too. For one thing, I can rarely leave the house without Tom. For another, I’m the breadwinner rather than the freelancer who scheduled her work around family and other commitments.
The COVID-19 pandemic hit not long after I began working from home and caring for Tom full time. For more than a year, we didn’t go out much at all. That and my God-given bent toward home and family shape my lifestyle even now.
So, in no particular order, these are a few of the ways I practice self-care:
— Exercise: I’ve been in the habit of walking at least three miles/day for many years. I try to do four or five miles a day now. Much of that happens inside the house because Tom’s leg pain means he doesn’t always feel like walking, but when we can, we still enjoy walking outside together.
— Showers: After multiple mission trips to countries where water is a luxury, a shower remains a cherished gift. Right now, I can still shower while Tom rests in his recliner. Those few moments of peace, enhanced by my favorite bath products, provide simple but special self-care.
— Worship: Worship feeds my soul and spirit more than anything else. When I attend choir practice, the songs stay in my heart all week and provide needed strength. If and when Tom can no longer attend church services, I plan to have someone else care for him so I can still go. Online church is a wonderful provision, but it doesn’t replace in-person connection.
— Baking: Gone are the days of making 50 dozen cinnamon rolls over a three-day period to support our children’s mission trips. But I still love to bake, and that meshes well with Tom’s increasing desire for sweets. For both our sakes, I try to find a good balance.
— Gardening: I’ve enjoyed adding roses, daylilies, and other plants to our yard over the time we’ve lived here. Working in the garden always brings me joy, and even if I run out for only a few minutes to water a plant or deadhead a rosebush, I return refreshed.
— Feeding the Birds: A few months after we moved here, I bought one bird feeder. That one has now become six, two of which are attached to my office window. I never thought I would enjoy seeing the birds come and go as much as I do, but watching them brings smiles even on difficult days. Bonus: Although I didn’t know this when I started, experts recommend birdwatching as an activity for people living with dementia. And Tom (who has never shared my love of nature) enjoys our little friends too.
— Bible Reading and Prayer: I don’t have the luxury of long quiet times or solitary prayerwalks anymore. But the habit of spending time with God every morning remains another source of strength. I follow a daily Bible reading plan and try to hold onto at least one verse all day to see how He applies it to my life. In a kingdom twist, as I look beyond myself in prayer, I’m also practicing self-care.
So yes, thank you, I am taking care of myself. Sometimes God gives me bonuses of time away to get a pedicure (a recent gift from two of our daughters, one of whom went with me, one of whom stayed with Tom) or go to a store alone. I’m working on making those outings a more regular part of my life. But for me, for now, self-care begins and ends at home.
Right where I belong.
If you are caring for someone who is living with dementia, how do you care for yourself? What brings you joy, peace, or rest? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below or on social media. Our story matters—and so does yours.
