There’s an old saying that it takes a village to raise a child.
Nobody mentions that it also takes a village to care for someone with Alzheimer’s or dementia.
And sometimes that village looks suspiciously like one person standing in the kitchen wondering why the kettle is boiling for the third time and nobody remembers making the tea.
That person is usually the carer.
Caring for someone with dementia isn’t one big dramatic event.
It’s a thousand tiny moments.
Answering the same question again.
Explaining gently that their mother isn’t coming to fetch them.
Looking for the glasses that are currently on their head.
People often think dementia care is about memory loss.
It isn’t.
It’s about constant adjustment.
Every day you adjust your expectations, your patience, your sleep, and sometimes your entire life.
And the emotions that come with it are complicated.
Carers feel love.
But they also feel anger.
Resentment.
Exhaustion.
And then guilt for feeling all of those things.
Which is why the idea of a village matters so much.
Because no one was meant to carry dementia care alone.
Sometimes the first villager is simply someone who listens without judgement.
Sometimes it’s a neighbour who pops in for tea.
Sometimes it’s a stranger in a support group who says three magical words:
“Me too.”
Villages don’t appear overnight.
They grow slowly.
And sometimes the very first villager is simply the person brave enough to say they need help.
Angela Watkins – Editor, Pensioners Forum