A birthday gift for a spouse with dementia brings unexpected joy : NPR

My wife’s birthday was in a few weeks.

Should I buy him a gift?

The reason I asked this question is because my wife has dementia. She is now in a phase where she cannot articulate words, where she does not always seem to respond to my visits. And even if I told her her birthday was coming up, there was no way of knowing if she could understand what I was saying.

In the first years after her diagnosis, she knew about events like her birthday. And as a loving husband, I would give her a gift: earrings and scarves are two of her favorite things. I gave up on clothes a long time ago because it was hard to know if something would look good on her unless she tried it on.

I also used to get him CDs of some of his favorite artists. I think she really likes Bob Dylan more than me! And books I knew she would like – Mel Brooks’ memoir from a few years ago, for example. And history books, which are his passion.

Now things are different.

And even if I had to turn to my two favorite categories of gifts… she no longer wears earrings and she already has a lot of scarves. I could buy her a book and read it aloud, but I can’t know if she would understand. And CDs are in the dustbin of history.

Plus, she has an Alexa device for her room so someone can order songs from one of her favorites: “Alexa, play the Beatles.”

Now let me be frank. Since dementia robs people of their memories, a partner really doesn’t need to remember milestone dates: wedding anniversaries, Mother’s Day, birthdays.

I can’t ask Marsha to confirm this. But I think if I were to skip one of these opportunities, she would ignore it.

So it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing to disconnect myself from these joyful (and yes, sometimes stressful) responsibilities of being a couple. I now have a new set of responsibilities – I visit her almost every day, chat about all sorts of things, rub her back, take her for walks (in her wheelchair because she has lost the ability to walk).

Yet how could I give myself a pass? Even in this painful new stage of our relationship, I still want moments of joy, moments that remind me (and hopefully Marsha) of our past.

Even if she doesn’t have the words to say: “Thank you, darling! I want to believe that in some way she understands that this is a special moment.

Over the past few years, I’ve gravitated toward gifts that will elicit an immediate reaction. And that means food.

She lives in a group home for people with cognitive and other age-related issues. Her meals are homemade and delicious (sometimes I take a bite). The house follows Jewish rules of kashrut, so I can’t prepare something in my non-kosher kitchen and bring it to him.

But if I can find a food product that has a kosher seal of approval, it’s…well, kosher. Ice cream is his favorite food. It was from Marsha that I learned that you could just have a big bowl of ice cream. For dinner rather than after dinner occasionally.

So ice cream was an obvious choice. And coffee is his favorite flavor.

Humble boast; This turned out to be a stroke of genius on my part. I bought a container of Haagen-Dazs coffee ice cream. After dinner, the staff brought out a bowl. The smile on her face as she tasted that deep, mouth-watering coffee was sublime. I think it was bigger than the smile she shows when she looks at me in a good moment.

Another must-have is watermelon – even in winter, when her birthday falls, I will make an effort to find a personal melon, which she always enjoys.

But this year something happened as I was thinking about his birthday coming up. I was walking past a clothing store and saw a sweater in the window. And it struck me: this sweater is so Marsha.

It was a nice, well-fitting cardigan, with black and charcoal stripes across the shoulders and upper chest, and a cheeky red stripe running down to the buttons.

She would love this sweater.

I had two questions: of course, one of them was “would this fit”?

The other question: should I even buy it? She has a full wardrobe in her room, pieces that work well in an environment where she needs to be dressed by others and comfort is important.

So to be frank: why spend money on a sweater that she doesn’t really need and that she may not even be able to fully appreciate, because her ability to concentrate visually has diminished.

I asked our two daughters. They agreed that this sweater was very Marsha. So I bought it.

The girls recommended a certain size. When they saw the sweater, they said, “Dad, it will be too tight, look at those sleeves. It will never fit and be comfortable.”

I kept hope. And of course, I could always return it.

On his birthday, the three of us visited him. “We have presents!” I said. My youngest daughter said she saw a smile appear on Marsha’s face. Then we helped her put on the sweater.

It was a birthday miracle. The sweater fits well.

Dementia is an instant illness, says Andrea Kohn, the wise and supportive nurse practitioner who treats Marsha’s dementia-related issues.

I learned that you cannot predict how a person with dementia will behave at every moment. During some of my visits, Marsha is dozing most of the time. Sometimes she just stares blankly. Sometimes she seems to respond to the music, sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she gets agitated and her face shows it – maybe she has a need and can’t find the words to express it.

But in that moment, with her two daughters and her husband by her side, dressed in a stylish new sweater, she gave us a beautiful smile. His face lit up. She looked…well, she looked like the Marsha I’ve known and loved for decades, decked out in a chic new outfit.

I spoke with Andrea about Marsha’s smiles. I want to believe that they reflect a true moment of happiness despite everything. Andrea agrees: she’s not capable of faking emotion at this point.

What did this year’s birthday teach me about giving?

I know that gifts are just physical objects – they’re just things. Many birthday celebrants throw a party and tell the guests, “The only gift I want is your presence.” »

This is absolutely true for all of us who have too much stuff and really don’t need more.

I give my presence – even though visits can be so difficult and tearful – before, after and during. A visit reinforces everything we have both lost to this cruel and relentless disease.

But on his birthday, that gift-giving moment gave me another insight. Even though we’ve lost so much to dementia, our family is still united by our deep love – and, in this case, our love of clothes! This sweater made Marsha, our daughters and I happy. What is the best birthday gift of all.