I recently read a comment on Facebook about a caregiver in an assisted living complex who mentioned that he had learned to get down to their level.  In one sense, this is accurate because you are bending down to speak with those in wheelchairs, or to assist them in some way.  But in fact, in relating to people who are in places like that is not a going down, but a lifting up.  Since Dad’s birthday anniversary was only a few days ago and I’m thinking of him and missing him so much, I wrote a little piece in tribute to our elderly and too often forgotten citizens.

I have spent more than my share of time in independent and assisted living facilities as well as skilled nursing with my parents and others. As age and disease wreak their havoc, it is tragic and extremely painful to witness. When it’s somebody whom you love it is beyond painful, it’s devastating.

I’ve been in a lot of facilities mostly in the Midwest but a few in California as well. My mother had Alzheimers and my father had Lewy Bodies Dementia. Never in my experience did I feel that I was getting down to their level. What I witnessed was a bravery in the face of constant pain, loss of privacy, dignity and independence.

I saw people who were neglected by caregivers because their family was not there to advocate for them and make sure that their needs were met. I saw people who had to eat institutional meals rather than the food they loved and enjoyed. I saw endless, lonely hour, days, weeks, months and years of mind numbing emptiness and resignation. Yet in each one I also saw courage, bravery and humor. There was a wealth of wisdom and experience, of stories and insights not found anywhere else.

Those with dementia lived in a fuzzy world of the half remembered, often distorted, sometimes fantastical world of a reality only they could see but every bit as authentic as my own. These are the true heroes.

Not by choice, but necessity they face the demons of old age steadfast and resolute. I never stooped down to their level; they buoyed me up to theirs. They inspired me and sometimes even shamed me of my pettiness, weakness and of my lack of appreciation for the blessings that I enjoy. If I could but live so bravely and die so well, I shall be proud to join their company some day.