This is the story of Audry’s journey with the growing symptoms of Dementia, and how her loving family learned to embrace the change with love and compassion and how to create a safe, comforting environment.
It started with little things
Small moments that made us pause and exchange glances, wondering if we were imagining things. Jim’s mom, Audry, had always been sharp as a tack—quick with a joke, meticulous with her crossword puzzles, and the kind of person who remembered everyone’s birthday. But then, she forgot little things, like where she put her glasses or whether she’d taken her morning pills. We chalked it up to age. After all, she was in her late 70s, and who doesn’t get a little forgetful?
But then the changes became harder to ignore. One evening, Nancy and I were over for dinner, and Audry started telling us a story about her childhood. Midway through, she stopped, her face blank as if the words had evaporated. Audry laughed it off, but I saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. Another time, she called Nancy by her sister’s name, not once but three times. Nancy gently corrected her, but Audry just stared at her, confused as if the names had tangled in her mind.
Increasing Challenges
The most challenging moment came when we found her looking lost in the grocery store parking lot. She’d gone out for milk and couldn’t remember where she’d parked her car. When we brought her home, she was embarrassed and frustrated, snapping at us when we tried to help. That’s when Nancy and I sat down and had the talk we’d been avoiding.
Something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just forgetfulness. It was something bigger, something we didn’t know how to handle on our own. We took Audry to the doctor, and after a series of tests, the diagnosis came: early-stage dementia. The word hit us like a punch to the gut. We’d known, deep down, but hearing it out loud made it real. Audry was scared, and so were we.
How do you navigate something like this?
How do you help someone you love when they’re slowly slipping away?
Nancy and I tried our best. We took turns checking in on her, helping with meals, and making sure she took her medication. But it wasn’t enough. Audry’s confusion grew, and so did her frustration. She’d get angry when she couldn’t remember how to do simple tasks, like working the microwave or folding laundry. We felt helpless, watching her struggle, and exhausted from trying to keep up with everything. We knew we couldn’t do this alone.
When to Ask for Help
That’s when we found Promyse Home Care in Kitchener.
A friend mentioned them, and we decided to reach out. From the very first conversation with their nurse case manager, Ashley, we felt a sense of relief. She listened—really listened—to our concerns and fears. She didn’t just offer help; she offered understanding. The team explained how their caregivers could assist with daily tasks, but more than that, they talked about how they could help Audry maintain her independence and dignity. They even connected us with resources we didn’t know existed, like support groups and memory care programs.
The first day their caregiver, Sarah, came to the house, Audry was hesitant. She’s always been proud, and I think she felt like accepting help was admitting defeat. But Sarah had a way about her—calm, patient, and kind. She didn’t push; she just eased into Audry’s routine, helping with little things like tidying up or making tea. Slowly, Audry began to trust her. And so did we.
Having Sarah’s support has been a game-changer. She’s not just there for Audry; she’s there for us, too. She’s taught us how to communicate better with Audry, how to redirect her when she gets frustrated, and how to create a safe, comforting environment. She’s become part of our family, and we’re so grateful for her.
It’s not easy watching someone you love change in ways you can’t control.
There are still hard days—days when Audry doesn’t recognize us or gets upset over something we can’t understand. But with Promyse’s help, we’re learning to navigate this new reality. We’re learning to focus on the moments of joy, like when Audry laughs at an old joke or hums along to her favourite song. Those moments remind us that she’s still here, still our Audry.
This journey has taught us so much—about patience, about love, and about the importance of asking for help when you need it. We don’t know what the future holds, but we do know we’re not alone. And for now, that’s enough.
