“It’s not funny… until enough time has passed.”
For many of our life experiences, after a time, we can laugh. Of course, there are enough life tragedies that will never be funny. But good hearty laughter strengthens our immune systems, limiting the damage caused by stress. So, the next time, you find yourself overwhelmed while caring for a loved one with dementia, consider the following experience, which was definitely NOT FUNNY when it occurred!
The Milwaukee County Department on Aging Case Worker recommended we do something about my father who was mostly living alone.
After I returned to my childhood home to see what we could do for my father, I met with the case worker. My father seemed to be all right. It had been 19 years since I flew the family nest to live on my own. The case worker said he’s likely showing signs of dementia. She recommended that I have him assessed by a specialist.
After my father agreed to visit us in California, I suggested he dress the part. His closet was filled with clothes of another era – from the 1940s with big double-breasted suits to the 1950s.
Time to go shopping. I felt like I was dressing up my “Ken Doll.” In the men’s section of the department store in Milwaukee, I realized, I had no idea what size he wore. It took a few tries before we settled on size small. By age 86, he had shrunk down to the low five-foot range and still liked his clothes to be a bit roomy.
As I walked around the store choosing khaki chino slacks, Polo shirts, and cotton button-up shirts – things that made him look current (in the 1990s), I brought them to the dressing room.
Sometimes, when I’d take a bit longer, I’d see him walking in the aisles. There he was in nothing but his old baggy pair of boxer shorts and an undershirt. Flushed with embarrassment, I’d quickly usher him back to the dressing room, taking care not to look at the equally shocked customers and store personnel who tried averting their gaze. Of course, today, exposing one’s boxers is fashionable… well, maybe among the younger generation.
Today, instead of feeling embarrassed and shocked, I can laugh about this. With greater knowledge thanks to the VOICES with Dementia, we are increasingly aware of what it’s like to live with dementia. When I take this awareness one step further, I am able to empathize with my father’s short-term memory loss and confusion. He was quite reserved and proper during my upbringing. I ask myself: How would I feel if I were found roaming the store aisles in my underwear?
