Reflections of a Caregiving Facility Coordinator

By Nate Jensen via Well Beings Share Your Caregiving Story

Hello, I am the coordinator at a long-term caregiving facility. We serve 13 elders in the final phases of dementia. They will not graduate from our program; they will leave us to become guardian angels.

My role is to meet our Elders where they are in their journey and create a home of peace and security for them. I keep their loved ones informed about the challenges that future changes may bring to their journey.

Here are a few thoughts I will share 

The other day, I had another amazing accidental conversation with a young man of 84. He has Dementia, and his memories bounce all over his life’s timeline. And then out of the blue, we have a conversation about the here and now. Over coffee. Like two old dudfers do. 

He looked at me and asked? 

“Hey, should I be worried?”

I said “about?”

He said, “My wife.” 

I ain’t seen her in a long time.”

I paused, said “Well, Sir,

ya know I’m a straight shooter, you can trust me, right? 

He says yes, that’s why I’m asking you now. 

I went on to reply, “She passed 9 years ago from cancer. And Sir, that’s about the time your mind started to get fuzzy.” 

He said, “I’m glad I asked, cause sometimes she tells me she loves me, and it will be ok. 

But I can’t see her.”

Sir, she is here every day in your heart. And your heart is never ever fuzzy, my friend.

He smiled, “ok, thanks..

 You really put that worry to rest. “ 

Next cup of coffee is on me!

And ya may wanna start thinking about getting a real job, and winked and rolled away…..

Blessed

Today,

I was having a wonderful conversation with a friend who has dementia. He is a retired Mental Health professional. Still has many amazing qualities, but also needs my level of care to remain calm and safe. We joked about many things until we hit the raw nerve. 

His diagnosis. Dementia.

His world stopped at that moment.

I asked, “What would you tell a client, look in the mirror and advise.

“One day at a time”

Quiet moments followed.

I replied, “Yes, 

and I’m here to help you learn how to juggle spaghetti with me.

It will not be easy, but it will be a challenge and new for us both.”

I thanked him for being in my life, and we smiled together.

Baby steps.

So many times we have spoken.

At first, when we met, we both just knew our souls would blend together somehow.

Mine is full of life, kindness, happiness, and positivity; yours is tired and ready to pass the torch. Still fighting the best it can.

We’d speak of days gone by, when you were beyond amazing!

You had the world by the tail, and life was grand. Never did you complain.

We both knew these conversations would soon be silent.

As time would roll on, it would take its toll. Each day would pull at our ability to speak. So, now we have moved to chatting with our eyes.

Yours a deep pool of pain. Mine, aware but still lighthearted.

Forced to smile.

I have always known that my role is to keep you from dwelling on today’s pain. My humor helped us both escape thinking about tomorrow.

Then today, time caught up with us both. You paused, no more breathing. No more need for jokes

You finally finished your race.

Checkered flags, relatives, warmth, the opposite of pain. Eternally calm.

As for me, I’ll stay behind to help the rest. As they too strive for that same happiness.

But know you left a piece of your soul behind, safe with me.

I will treasure it, learn from it, and add it to my collection.

8:25 was the time you presented me with that very gift. Grateful but sad my heart did shift.

My collection has grown by one again. My collection is my burden to share.

I will continue to be a collector of those old souls. The ones that were so amazing yet slipped away, never to be forgotten.

Travel well, my friend.

Thank you.