Gifts For People Living With Dementia
There are times when I am buying my mum gifts where I invest a lot of ‘hope’ into them. What I mean by that is, I am hoping to get a reaction, from my mum. Recognition, interaction, something. As her dementia advances, this becomes less and less likely. It is my choice, therefore, if I want to actually set myself up for disappointment.
Not going to lie, I do have a habit of keeping on making that choice.
The Paddington Bear toy - maybe she will remember how much she loved PB? Maybe she will say ‘Paddington?’. Nope.
The robocat - Maybe she will stroke it, to hear it purr? Nope.
What I’ve learned is that all I am doing is making myself a little bit sadder, each time.
When I buy gifts that come with absolutely no expectations at all, that just lean into accepting my mum exactly as she is, there can be no disappointment. I won’t feel more sadness. And my mum won’t be any less happy, either.
I’m told it’s called ‘meeting people where they are’.
Pretty much any practical gift is going to fulfill this, from a cosy blanket to snuggle cushion. Anything else I give, I should do so acknowledging it may be nothing more than decoration.
My mum with Ollie The Octopus - the best ‘leaning in’ gift I’ve ever bought for her.
That doesn’t mean I should give up on ‘hope’ though. In many ways my Words Without Stories book was absolutely created with hope. Having seen that my mum could read greetings cards, short captions might just be manageable. And they were! I still managed my expectations, knowing she may not have any interest in it at all. Because, the more I go into each visit with no expectation of how my mum might be, interact with me, interact with her environment, the more joy I will take from any visit.
If I am expecting absolutely nothing, I will always take away something.
For example, if she is chatty, and smiley, I will take away a photo, or happy memory of those smiles.
She might take a drink, a mouthful of chocolate mousse, and I can take away satisfaction.
If my mum does nothing but sleep the whole time, I can hold her hand and take away a feeling of peacefulness.
When I lower my own expectations, it benefits me hugely, emotionally.
The gifts at This Present Moment are all about acceptance. About remembering who people were, but at the same time honouring who they are now. Some of them are created with humour in mind, because someone living with dementia may still have a great sense of humour. Or maybe they once did have a slightly wicked sense of humour, and it’s nice to be able to remember that?
But, every now and then, I am sure I will keep going with those gifts of hope.
Much love,
Anna
xx
