my resident was sleeping, so i tagged along with another classmate speaking to her resident. after 10 minutes, i went back to see if my resident was up, and she wasn’t so i looked through the resident files.
let me back up right quick.
because the place i volunteer at is a place which specializes in assisted-living for dementia patients, they have binders with paperwork filled out by family about the lives of the residents. this is there so conversation partners know what to indirectly bring up, thus leading to better, productive conversations. as i went back to check on my resident, she was still napping, so i looked through the files. i learned she is a cook book author and is very spiritual. no wonder she brings up church so much. she also mentioned cooking but not wanting to open up a restaurant. i then looked through other patients, and even coach’s files. although all the residents have life at the moment, they’ve had what seems to be a seperate life before the dementia set in. some don’t remember what they’ve done in the past. i can’t imagine not remembering who or what you love. lovers turned strangers is a part of this life and at times love feels strange, but losing the ability to love is the most heartbreaking thing imagineable. it’s beyond tragic how everything you’ve done in life can be taken away from you while you’re still here.
i’m sure there’s a silver lining somewhere, but these thoughts are raining on me at the moment.
-ratha, 5:57pm, 2.7.20