Dementia, to me
By Caroline Ryskiewich
I believe I was put on this earth to work with seniors. Does that sound cheesy? Probably — but it’s a true statement. I am one of those few lucky people who not only knows what work I am called to do, but genuinely loves doing it. How lucky am I?!
I want seniors to know their lives still have meaning. A 98-year-old friend once told me: “I feel useless. What’s the point of being here if I’m not contributing anything to society? I’m not producing anything; what good am I?” Our culture tells the lie that to have worth, we must create, make, produce, provide. I believe people matter not because of what they DO, but simply because they ARE. To be is enough!
My 3 core beliefs as a senior care professional are this:
● Every person is a person of worth. No matter how old you are, you are worthy of big love, genuine friendship, and authentic connection.
● We learn from one another. We’re not here to “help” or “serve” seniors in a unidirectional act of caregiving; if we open our ears, minds, and hearts we’ll gain more than we can give.
● Seniors should be celebrated, not marginalized. Our communities and cities will be more robust, rich and beautiful if we don’t push our seniors to the sidelines, but encourage inclusivity in the mainstream. Seniors are not the “other,” they are us!
My husband’s YiaYia has dementia. Every holiday, we load up our labradoodle and all our luggage and make the drive to Charlotte to see her. Every visit, even if it’s Christmas and we’d just seen her for Thanksgiving, she acts like it’s the first time she’s ever met our dog Bee. YiaYia’s eyes light up and she falls head over heels for Bee’s soft fur and wet nose. They nap together on the couch and become fast friends... again and again. YiaYia doesn’t remember Bee from one visit to the next, but is overcome by new joy every time they “meet.” How can we create opportunities for connection like this for seniors all the time?
My friend Bob has dementia. One day in Creative Engagements we were looking at a photo together — something random I’d found online. There was something blurry and green, out-of-focus in the back of the image (I hadn’t even noticed). Bob said to me: “Look at that green monster hiding in the corner! He’s blurry because he’s moving so fast.. About to bite something!” Then Bob yelped like he’d been bitten. How can we create opportunities for creativity and storytelling like this for seniors all the time?
My Papa had dementia. In his last years, Papa fell even more in love with nature: “God’s beautiful world,” he called it. When he was bedridden, my Mimi would surround him with art portraying that beautiful world: from paintings on the wall to YouTube slideshows of butterflies, flowers, and sunsets. It was stunning. How can we create opportunities for art immersion like this for seniors all the time?
I love the Dementia Inclusive Inc. culture of well-being, inclusion, health equity, and HOPE! Isn’t that what it’s all about?