A Caregiver's Journey to Memory Care

"What I Didn't Expect": A Caregiver's Journey to Memory Care

‍

At Shadow Mountain Memory Care, we believe in the power of shared stories. Memory care is not just our specialty—it’s our passion. And when family members like Pat Demarest open up about their personal journey, it reminds us why we do what we do every single day.

Pat’s story is one of love, resilience, and ultimately—relief. She has walked the long, winding path of Alzheimer’s alongside her husband and made a decision that so many families wrestle with: Is it time for memory care?

‍

“Taking care of him was well within my skill set,” she shared. “But it was relentless. 24 hours. Day after day.”

‍

Like many caregivers, Pat felt the emotional weight of guilt and grief. The two “big Gs,” as she calls them. She feared she was abandoning him, that she was selfish for even considering placement. But caregiving had become more than a one-person job. It was exhausting. Overwhelming. And her children saw it, too. Their gentle push—*“Mom, it’s time”—*was the beginning of a new chapter.

Still, the decision wasn’t simple.

Where should he go? What would make it feel like a step forward, not a step away?

That’s when Pat turned to a professional navigator, someone who could guide her through the maze of options and help find the right fit for her husband—someone younger than most memory care residents and in need of something beyond routine puzzles and passive activities.

And then she found us.

‍

“They play cornhole and volleyball. The entire group participates in trivia, bingo, crossword puzzles, Jeopardy. Live musicians perform three to five times a week. And dancing! He never danced before.”

‍

At Shadow Mountain, we design programming that truly engages our residents—body, mind, and spirit. Our goal isn’t just to care for people living with Alzheimer’s and dementia—it’s to care with them, by creating meaningful moments every day.

‍

“Can you imagine Spanish lessons for a person with dementia? They may not remember, but I now know my colors in Spanish.”

‍

What Pat discovered was something many families don’t expect—joy. She now visits during activity time and joins right in. She sings, she dances, she laughs. She’s found a new community, one where she’s not alone, and neither is he.

‍

“The staff members are friendly and kind. This is a lot better than I expected. He is better entertained than I could provide.”

‍

At Shadow Mountain Memory Care, we’re honored to be part of stories like Pat’s. We know the decision to move a loved one into memory care is never easy. But it can also be a new beginning—not just for the one needing care, but for the entire family.

Thank you, Pat, for your courage to share. Your journey is an inspiration to many.

If you’re a family member standing at that same crossroads, wondering what’s next, we’re here. We’ll walk with you every step of the way. Contact us today at (480)923-7979 or shadowmountaincare.com for more information.

‍

Because memory care isn’t just what we do—it’s who we are.

‍

Pat’s complete story is featured in The Durango Herald—read it below:

https://www.durangoherald.com/articles/i-didnt-expect-placing-my-husband-would-improve-both-of-our-lives/

‍

-------

A few years ago, I wrote a poem, “I didn’t know,” (Herald, Nov. 13, 2022) that resonated with many. It was about the painful journey of finding a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s for my husband. Life has moved forward, and I want to share what I didn’t expect when his care was more than I or my family could provide.

The first question: To place or not to place? Is it time? Taking care of him was well within my skill set but it was relentless, 24 hours, day after day. The kids helped, but it felt like spit in a bucket. He was resistant to attending an adult day program or a professional caregiver. So it became more a choice about me. But is that right? Isn’t it about him?

My two kids who provided coverage while I took a weekend break discovered caregiving demanding. And did I say, relentless? When I returned, each said, “Mom, it is time to place Dad. He is too much. You don’t have many good years left. You need to take advantage of them and live your life. It is time to place him.”

But placing him in memory care? It seemed a bit extreme and expensive to the tune of $7,000 to $9,000 a month. If he would accept a caregiver, it would be $45 an hour. But even with other caregivers, I didn’t really relinquish responsibilities. An hour or two only whet my appetite for more downtime.

All summer, guilt and grief. The two big “Gs” for caregivers. Feelings that I am abandoning him, I am selfish, I am imprisoning him. I wept all summer.

The second question: Where to place? I interviewed facilities, feeling like a deceitful witch. He could not know or he would be very anxious. Denver or Phoenix? Miserable in winter or miserable in summer? A good decision was hiring a navigator to walk me through facilities and what would best meet his unique needs.

My husband is about 10 years younger than most who reside in memory care. Plus, the majority of people living in memory care are women. We needed a different activity program than the usual puzzles and more men.

Found it in Phoenix. They play cornhole and volleyball. No puzzles. The entire group participates in trivia, bingo, crossword puzzles, Jeopardy. Live musicians perform three to five times a week. And dancing! He never danced before. Can you imagine Spanish lessons for a person with dementia? They may not remember but I now know my colors in Spanish.

I now visit during activity time and participate. It is great fun. I can sing my heart out and dance the bossa nova and no one judges. I have made friends with several residents. I know their names. The staff members are friendly and kind. This is a lot better than I expected. He is better entertained than I could provide.

Professionals said our relationship would change. I would return to the role of a wife instead of a nurse. But I don’t feel like a wife. He can’t be my partner or my lover or my playmate. But he is the embodiment of my memories.

My husband’s life is ending, but the freedom I now have is letting me explore the world again. But it is odd building a new life with him on the periphery. Initially, I felt guilty because I didn’t miss him – at all. After a couple of months, I missed him terribly. I wanted to see him teach our grandkids to ski at Hesperus, maybe coach one of there teams. Not to be.

Today, he said he is having a ball. He is enjoying the people and activities. He dances. He never danced in his life. He even sings. Should I feel guilty for not placing him earlier? He is adapting well. Those two nasty feelings – guilt and grief. Will they ever still?

‍

Pat Demarest is a caregiver and member of the Durango Dementia Coaltion. Visit durangodementiacoalition.org or email durangodementiacoalition@gmail.com to learn more.

‍

‍