Memory Café week starts April 10th!
George Eliot once asked, "What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?" I appreciate the two thoughtful assumptions she makes in this statement—that life IS difficult and each of us have the power and responsibility to lessen the burdens of those around us.
In the upper Midwest we pride ourselves on being kind, and even presumptuously consider ourselves kinder than people living in other regions of the world. The ‘Minnesota Nice’ within us recognizes the power of reaching out to those who are lonely, grieving or discouraged as they struggle through painful issues with their health, career, finances, marriages, and families. Our communities generally benefit from this mindset that recognizes the power of simple acts of kindness such as making a phone call, sending a text, listening, going out for coffee or just spending a little time with our struggling friends. These are simple and thoughtful ways we ‘make life less difficult for each other’.
As I reflect on various situations when I’ve been approached with gentle acts of kindness I’m struck by their simplicity. An unexpected gentle touch on the arm from my husband; a broad smile and engaging eye contact on the street from a complete stranger; a note written by my young pre-school grandchild that simply states, “I like you Nana.”; an invitation for coffee with a dear friend; a phone call from someone who was just checking in to see how I was doing; a hand-written note from my mother telling me I was special. None of these examples involved tremendous sacrifices of time, money, or exertion on the part of the giver; the only requirement was a kind thought and willingness to act on it…a mindset of kindness in action.
Unfortunately, this ‘Minnesota Nice’ mindset of kindness often falls flat when it comes to making life less difficult for individuals impacted by memory loss—obscured by the misplaced fears, erroneous judgements, and dangerous assumptions we make about these people and their family members. From the moment we learn of their diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease or other related dementia we propel these courageous people to the last stages of this disease—which could be 5–15 years down the road. We immediately assume they are no longer trustworthy, able to remain actively engaged in their lives as they were prior to receiving the diagnosis, or capable of maintaining a friendship with us. We begin to avoid them and their spouse by neglecting to include them in ways we did prior to the diagnosis—inviting them to go out for a move, supper or a quick cup of coffee because we’re afraid they might ‘act out’ or become ‘disruptive’. We neglect calling them because we’re afraid we might say or do something wrong. Instead of making their lives less difficult as Eliot suggests, we allow the devastating stigma associated with this disease to disrupt and ultimately destroy our friendship during a season of their lives when they need us most.
In my work at Memory Café of the Red River Valley, I have many opportunities to listen to our care partners and people living with memory loss describe the grief associated with receiving the diagnosis of dementia. Without question, it is a deeply grievous and difficult diagnosis. But when the diagnosis is coupled with the staggering loneliness and social isolation these beautiful people experience when ignored by their family, friends, neighbors, clergy, it is unimaginably devastating. One care partner confided to me recently, “When people who were living with this disease warned me that our friends and family would desert us, I didn’t believe them. But guess what? They were absolutely right. Even our very best friends and some of our family members don’t want anything to do with us anymore.”
Memory Café of the Red River Valley exists to shift the hopeless, doom and gloom paradigm of dementia to one of realistic hope and proactive positively. We don’t sugar-coat this disease and minimize its impact on those living with it, but we firmly believe it IS possible to live well with dementia for years if you remain active, engaged in your community and if you surround yourself with non-judgmental friends who live with a mindset of ‘kindness with action.’ “
Go and love someone exactly as they are. And then watch how quickly they transform into the greatest, truest version of themselves. When one feels seen and appreciated in their own essence, one is instantly empowered.” —Wes Angelozzi
Deb Kaul co-founded Memory Café of the Red River Valley in 2017 where she currently serves as Executive Director. The mission of Memory Café is to recognize the intrinsic beauty and value of those living with mild to moderate memory loss while inspiring in them and their care partners hope, joy, and a sense of empowerment by offering socialization and education opportunities, as well as opportunities to engage in the creative arts and community service projects.
We couldn’t be more pleased that the Memory Café of the Red River Valley was willing to collaborate with us to create some easy to use resources to give us ideas of how to support those we know who are living with dementia. To honor those families in our community April 10th will start Memory Café week here at Practical Kindness. We will start off sharing a short podcast on Prairie Public’s Main Street program 3pm and 7pm on 91.9 FM that Monday, and follow it with resources - and of course stories - on our social media. We hope you can join us!
April’s featured art:
Going room-to-room in a hospital to visit terminally ill patients and play music, is the inspiration for Carol Rogne’s original, “Music Heals.”