Dad has dementia and has lived in LTC facility for a year and a half. I am his only child and the closest person to him. About 2 weeks ago, his facility started allowing indoor visits (daily) for an hour. I’ve tried to make the most of the hour, and for the most part our visits have been pleasant. Today, dad seemed sad and a little irritated. I tried talking to try and keep things upbeat, but I knew something was wrong - so I finally just asked.
Dad said, “I’m upset because I haven't heard from my daughter” (thats me) He said, “I don’t know if I did something wrong or if she’s mad at me, but she’s not answering my calls and I haven’t heard from her (again, me).
I literally sat there and felt like I was hit with a Mack truck. I know it may not be the right thing say, but I looked him square in the eye and said “dad I AM your daughter. It’s me and I’m here with you”
He definitely didn’t believe me and said - let’s just drop it. He was distant and sad during the entire visit. Yes I’m sad that he doesn’t recognize me, but what makes it worse is that he’s genially saddened that I would desert him (which couldn’t be farther from the truth). Is there anything I can say or do to help him feel comfort and realize it’s really me? Side note: he calls me by my name, and even introduces me by name, but on the same day, he look ME straight in the eye, and asks me - have you seen Ann (yea, that’s me). Ugh
First, a (((hug))).
It probably wont make you feel any better but periodically this happens to me: Mom talks about me to Me (and it's rarely complementary!) She conjures up the most awful fables about people I feel I need to defend. All too often, the false beliefs of abandonment, theft, indifference, cruelty (in her disordered mind) are connected to those who love her the most and do the most for her. And as you described of your dad, my mom also fades in and out of her delusion like bad radio reception. One minute she's talking about me like I wasn't there, and the next minute she seems to know she's addressing me, her daughter. In and out. Back and forth.
Dear Anna, recognize the neurons in your dad's brain are misfiring. He remembers, loves and values you, his daughter because after all, he's asking for you! But the visual center in his brain no longer recognizes you. I would suggest you emotionally disconnect. I don't mean abandonment, ceasing to care, etc. Rather, recognize the disease for what it is: a memory thief. You can't help it. He can't help it. It's easier to just go along with his delusions. When he asks after Anna, you might make up some pretext for your "absence," i.e., "Anna's on vacation, Anna's got the flu; I'll let her know you miss her," whatever you think might best reassure him.
When my mom attacks a family member for some imagined slight or threat, I say, "Oh Mom, that's just not the Jane I know! She's such a good person to have remembered your birthday last month!", etc. Don't directly challenge. Just say something calming and reassuring.
This disease is an uphill battle with no winners. When we as caregivers think in terms of how we can ease the way for those who are afflicted, it eases the way for ourselves, too. Just know you have a place to come to when your heart is breaking. There are many here who have lived through the pain you're feeling. We get it.
Such a hideous affliction, this dementia. I hate it.
I wonder if you rub your dad's head or shoulder and let him know that Ann is away for a few days and unreachable by phone, and that she will call you right away when she gets back home. That Ann loves him very much & is looking forward to visiting with him very soon. I don't know if that will work, but it's worth a try.
Sending you a hug and a prayer that your dad is able to recognize you as his daughter more often in the future.
I had to act like the worker, but I continued to care for her with love and calmness. One day she said to me, “I don’t know why, but I have loved you since the first day I met you.” Oh my, knock me over. So you see, with their broken, confused mind, the love and caring can get through. He is not remembering it’s you right now and might always be confused from here on in. But keep loving him. Talk softly, call him Dad/Daddy. If that upsets him, you can say you like to call him that because he seems like a Daddy, if that is ok with him. Do not use the word remember, because he can’t and saying that can upset him.
Use little white lies, by telling him you know she has been away but will be back soon. Try calling him on the phone and see if he will then recognize you. You need to be in his world and as hard as that is, it makes it easier on both of you.
I am now my husbands caregiver and know this day is just around the corner that he won’t know me. I live in the moment and know it is not about what I wish it would be, but it is this way and as long as he is safe and well taken care of, feels my love that is ok. Bless you and keep your love flowing.
Patiently persistent, hopefully it will come back enough so he knows who you are.
Good luck
Do not correct him. and do not fight it. I did, and that was the last time she literally spoke.
Have you seen ann? Yes, I am happy I can visit you again. Or smile. He is in there. be there for him and you. smile..
It might be revealing to ask him one or two questions about this "missing" daughter - how old she is, for example, where she's living, what job she does. Might give you a clue about where in time his head has gone to.
Its a possibility since he isn’t happy being there that he really does know it’s you, and is acting as if he doesn’t so he can express his anger at what he feels was abandoning. Instead of repeating “it’s me dad” respond in such a way that affirms the reality without giving attention to her remarks so if he starts telling you about his daughter who deserted him, simply don’t give a response to that at that time,cheerfully change the subject such as “dad look the paper says,..” for example and talk about other things, remember if you give a response it reinforces it. Tell him often “dad I really love you”
Dad, this is me and you :) !!
can we take another one together now?
Something I would do with Mom is put hymns on my phone to play and lay beside her and talk to her. We would snuggle and she would play with my hair. She couldn't see my face so I think that helped eliminate some confusion. We would spend time just snuggled together singing the hymns or just listening quietly.
She didn't know who I was, but was always comfortable and happy to be with me. She said many times, "we've known each other for a very long time" and I would answer "pretty much my whole life".
One thing to try is to take in old albums. I took in my brother's wedding and pointed out photographs of myself with my father and the rest of the family, to remind him. He really enjoyed the photos and seemed to connect me with the daughter he felt he had 'lost'.
At one point he said (accusingly) "I remember you when you looked like that!" I said "Yes Father, I wish I still did. It was 30 years ago!"
That made us both laugh. xx
When my "wasband" drove 1,600 miles to visit her, waving through the window, she refused to even look in his direction, despite the nurse's urgings. That will always be his last memory. So sad! He had always been her favorite child.
And my own grandfather, last time I saw him, asked me out on a date...and asked me why I kept calling him "Grandpa". The whole thing really angered my mom, who was then his caregiver.
While nothing can prevent his disease, and little any of us say can soothe your hurt, please know that like the others, I wrap my arms around you and kiss your forehead. You're a good daughter and I honor your kind commitment to him.
Peace.
I dug in and befriended her. She told me every single time that she'd just gotten a letter from her daughter and she asked me to read it to her (very loudly!) I must have read that letter 20 times over the 3 months I did my project. On her dresser, she had a photo of a little boy, maybe 5, and a young woman standing next to him. She didn't know who they were...but the letter announced to the old lady that the writer's son had just graduated from college... Eventually, I figured out they were the people in the photo.
No one ever came to visit her. I even checked with the director, and several aides and nurses. I suspect 15-20 years had passed, all alone in that stinky, clinical depressing place. I'd throw things too!
To the OP and all of you who are dealing with this, know that at some deep, unconscious level, what you're doing is still touching their hearts. It still matters to them. Keep up the good work.