How to Love an Alzheimer's Daughter

A Gift for Mom! 🤍

My husband recently told me he doesn’t remember what I was like before my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I guess that’s fair. We only started dating one year before I started noticing changes in my mom and only two years before she was officially diagnosed. We actually got engaged the same month my mom was diagnosed.

My husband knows how to love an Alzheimer’s daughter because that’s all he’s ever known. He loves me, and so he loves an Alzheimer’s daughter. But there might be some people out there who aren’t exactly sure how to deal with it. Maybe you knew your wife or girlfriend long before her parent was diagnosed and now all you know is that she’s changed. Maybe her parent was just diagnosed, and you’re trying to navigate your new normal. Maybe you just met her, and you already know you love her, but you’re just not sure how to love an Alzheimer’s daughter.

I’ll tell you.

First of all, hug her more than seems necessary. She can never get enough hugs. She needs to be physically reminded of your love and support for her. She needs to know that although her parent may no longer be able to hug her, you can. When you don’t know what to do or what to say, just hug her. Hold her. Never be the first to break away.

RELATED: Did My Mom Know How Much I Loved Her?

Don’t try to fix everything. She doesn’t talk about her feelings or vent to you so you can offer her solutions. You can’t fix it. She knows that. She doesn’t expect you to even try. She just needs someone to listen without judgment even if you don’t fully understand what she’s going through. You don’t have to. You just have to listen.

Never, and I mean never, say “but this” or “at least that.” No, just no. She knows she still has a lot to be grateful for. She knows better than anyone because she knows loss better than anyone. She doesn’t need you to remind her. She knows what she has, and she knows what she’s lost. She doesn’t need to look on the bright side or think positive thoughts. There’s a time and a place for positivity, but right now it just sucks. And that’s all she needs to hear.

Understand she will often feel sad for apparently no reason.

Understand there is most definitely a reason. She is watching her parent disappear, slowly and painfully, right before her eyes. She grieves each and every loss along the way, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. She is losing the person who raised her. She is grieving the loss of that person. She is grieving a death that has yet to come. Her parent is becoming someone she doesn’t even recognize, and there’s nothing she can do about it. She is sad. She is always sad. She has every reason to be.

RELATED: What it’s Like To Love a Motherless Daughter

Don’t tell her how to grieve. Let her cry when she wants to. Let her talk about her parent when she wants to. Let her show you pictures. Let her tell you when something reminds her of her parent. Let her tell you why it makes her sad. Let her keep all of the things that remind her of her parent. Don’t make her throw them away. Don’t make her go to the places that make her sad. Don’t make her decorate for the holidays before she’s ready. Understand that holidays, birthdays, and other special occasions will be hard for her. Let her eat leftover spaghetti on Christmas and pretend it’s just another day. Let her stop and stare at the Mother’s Day display with tears in her eyes and a longing in her heart. Don’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. Let her grieve.

Above all, just be there for her.

Hug her. Listen to her. Go easy on her. Send her flowers. Make her a Mother’s Day card from your kids or your dogs. Make her eggs for breakfast. Take her to Panera for lunch. Surprise her with sushi for dinner. Let her buy random things from Amazon and Target. Let her know how much you appreciate her.

Love her.

Just love her.

She needs it more than you know.

She is in a dark and ugly place, but your love will help her find the beauty and the light again.

Give her time. She will learn to laugh again.

She’s still the girl you once knew.

Originally published on the author’s blog

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

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Lauren Dykovitz

Lauren Dykovitz is a writer and author. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two black labs. Her mom, Jerie, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2010 at age 62. Lauren was only 25 years old at the time. Jerie passed away in April 2020 after a ten-year battle with Alzheimer's. Lauren writes about her experience on her blog, Life, Love, and Alzheimer’s. She has also been a contributing writer for several other Alzheimer’s blogs and websites. Lauren self-published her first book, Learning to Weather the Storm: A Story of Life, Love, and Alzheimer's. She is also a member of AlzAuthors, a group of authors who have written books about Alzheimer’s and dementia. Please visit lifeloveandalzheimers.com to read more about Lauren’s journey.

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How to Love an Alzheimer’s Daughter

I’ll tell you.

RELATED: Did My Mom Know How Much I Loved Her?

Understand she will often feel sad for apparently no reason.

RELATED: What it’s Like To Love a Motherless Daughter

Above all, just be there for her.

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Lauren Dykovitz

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I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

How to Love an Alzheimer’s Daughter

I’ll tell you.

Understand she will often feel sad for apparently no reason.

Above all, just be there for her.

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

I Tried To Call My Mom Today

Farewell My Father: Walking the Trail of Beauty in Old Age

Sometimes Healing Doesn’t Look Like Moving On

Now that You’re Gone, I Sit In This Waiting Room Alone

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

My Parents Will Never See This Face

The Due Date that Never Comes

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

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