Alzheimer's: The importance of ritual
I’ve talked before about how traditions can quickly become upended by Alzheimer’s. And while letting go of those specific structures is often necessary, I have also found that keeping some sort of ritual, in whatever form it can take, is very important.
My daughter went to our church summer camp all through her growing up. In preschool she got her feet wet with the one-day camp, graduating up to a couple of nights to the full one-week later in elementary school. The camp is near Greensboro, so closer to my parents than to us here in Raleigh. The weeklong drop-off takes place on Sunday afternoons, so we would drive in and have lunch with my parents before heading to camp check-in.
This became ritual, having the “last meal” with them. My dad would always make something my daughter loved on the grill, a treat. We would take the ritual photo with grandparents. And then head to camp.
That ritual helped with the moments when we got her moved into her cabin, gave a last hug and said farewell for the week.
Fast forward to Alicia’s final weeklong camp, which happened after my Mom had moved into memory care. This was around post-pandemic (things had only recently re-started in adapted form) so Alicia was shaky. It took a while to get her packed. As the morning passed, it was obvious we could not get by for grandparent visits (we had hoped to make multiple stops). Alicia melted, insisting she HAD to see Nana before camp.
I took a deep breath, thought about the best course of action and made a few phone calls. The great folks at camp were so kind. If Alicia needed to arrive a little late, they would make it work. I explained to her that she might not be able to pick the exact cabin bed she wanted, but she was unwavering in her desire to see her Nana. (Understand I was not trying to deter, simply to inform, so she understood her choice.)
I then called Mom’s facility. I knew it was not an ideal time of day to visit, mid-to-late afternoon, but again, those kind people made it work. Knowing we were coming, they tried to help Mom be in a good place.
My husband, daughter and I ended up having a lovely 30-minute visit with Mom. We played music and sang. Alicia got her photo with Nana. And we actually got to camp before check-in ended. A win all the way around.
Earlier this month my mom’s birthday arrived, the first since her passing. We were going to be in Wilmington for my husband’s work conference. I wanted to do something special to mark the day.
My mom loved the beach and would spend hours looking for shells. So, I decided I wanted to walk on the beach and pick up shells to honor her.
I was “off” all day. All three of us were. It took us forever to pack and get to our destination. Then we had a reception to attend. Determined to make my wish happen, my husband then drove me and our daughter to the beach access. We arrived at dusk.
The three of us picked up shells, placed them in the shape of a heart and let the waves wash away our work. It was a special moment. A ritual. To honor Mom and say farewell.
In both cases, we had to adapt. With summer camp we had a previous ritual that we could not fully pull off in that changed year with Mom in a facility. To honor Mom’s passing, the day had gone differently than we had expected, but the 20 minutes we had on the beach as the dark approached were priceless.
Alzheimer’s almost always means changing plans and making adjustments. By pausing and taking a breath, I have learned to get to the heart of what is important – Alicia seeing her Nana before camp, me honoring Mom’s birthday – and make sure that core desire is met in some way. Oftentimes those adjustments, those distilling down to the heart of what is important, result in the most meaningful experiences.
Helpful Resources:
Andrea Osborne is Capitol Broadcasting Company’s director of content. She has a daughter in college and recently lost her mother who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She will be sharing her family’s journey here on WRAL’s family section.
