You are probably aware of Dr. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Designed to describe what a person diagnosed with a terminal illness may experience, we now also use them in relation to friends and family of the affected love one, as well as other losses such as illness, divorce, and job loss.
Dr. Kübler-Ross did not intend to suggest that a person moves through these stages one at a time. More often, they each make an appearance sporadically, and sometimes together.
I wish grief was a clear-cut, linear process that led straight to acceptance on a set timeline.
But, no. If you are a human being reading this, you probably already know this to be true. Like most of life, grief is complicated. Throw Alzheimer’s disease or another dementia into the mix, and grief really gets complicated.
I began grieving as soon as I became aware that something was wrong with Harvey’s cognition. It meant our life together was going to be dramatically changed. If my gut was right, and the diagnosis I feared most, younger-onset Alzheimer’s disease, was correct, I was going to be in for a world of pain and grief for many years.
I grieved for the loss of our future plans. I grieved for the losses that our daughters would carry. I grieved most for Harvey’s loss of identity as a physician, and what his world would look like in the future.
And I experienced every one of Dr. Kübler-Ross’s stages during Harvey’s time with dementia.
Denial: “Maybe it’s not as bad as I imagine it. Maybe it was just an ordinary slip.”
Anger: “Why is this happening to us?!?!!! It’s not fair! He did everything right!”
Bargaining: “Please don’t let this disease be hereditary! Let it be me instead of our daughters.”
Depression: “I just can’t do it anymore. I give up.”
Acceptance: “Alright. I am strong. We can get through this, relying on my love for Harvey and our daughters. I will do whatever I need to do to keep him safe and content.”
I could cycle through all these thoughts in a single day.
I recently learned about a book by David Kessler, Finding Meaning, thanks to my Aunt Sheryl. Mr. Kessler, a grief expert, worked closely with Dr. Kübler-Ross for years, and actually co-authored two books with her. In this 2019 book, he adds a sixth stage of grief, finding meaning. His treasure-trove of a website is here.
When you can remember a loved one who has died with more love than sadness, you are on this path. More than acceptance, you are at a place when you can honor their lives. It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture; everyone’s approach to finding meaning will be uniquely theirs.
There are other forms of grief that I have found to be apt descriptors of how caregivers of persons living with dementia may feel. Anticipatory grief describes the sense of knowing that death will be the ultimate end for someone diagnosed with a terminal illness. You know it’s coming. In the case of Alzheimer’s disease and other dementias, that time period can be excruciatingly long.
Ambiguous loss is a term used to describe the loss that comes when the loved one is missing, physically or psychologically. With dementia, care partners witness first-hand this type of loss, as their loved ones gradually change from the person they were. The gift and challenge comes in recognizing the God-spark still inside, and loving them through to the end. This podcast with Pauline Boss, who coined the term ambiguous loss, is incredibly touching.
If you have a loved one with dementia, you are experiencing some type of grief. Acknowledge it. Honor it. Love yourself and your loved one through it.
3 Responses
Dear Renee, I have carefully read every article /blog you have graciously shared with us of your personal journey with this terrible disease. My sweet 58 year old husband has been staged at moderate to severe. Many are suggesting this is the time I should consider memory care. I have gone as far as to have it scheduled. I’m struggling horribly. We still enjoy walks together, coffee, bike rides . Of course I am totaling charge of everything. He is completely disconnected from reality. He gets lost in the house . It is hard , but letting go has never been a strength of mine. Do you have any light to shed on a good time to transition. I also care for my home bound 88 year old dad and babysit my 2 year old grandson part time. Yes , I’m tired , but I can’t stand the thoughts of being without him.
Thanks for any advise,
Melissa
Oh, Melissa! It is so hard, isn’t it? I love that you and your husband can still connect with coffee, walks, and bike rides. Only you know when it’s time to transition care. For me, it helped to have a deal breaker in mind—sleep interrupted so that I couldn’t function well. Others can’t deal with incontinence. I do regret, a little bit, that I waited too long to place Harvey. I think his transition would have been easier had he been there in an earlier stage. He maybe would have adjusted better. But that might just be me second guessing myself. I did find that once he was there, my spirit was lighter and I felt like I could breathe. Harvey was safe and fairly content. I visited everyday, usually at lunch or dinner, then stayed to be with him over a coffee, or walking outside in the garden. He was always happy to see me, and never got upset when I slipped out (I didn’t make a production out of leaving).
Do you have caregivers coming in to help give you a break? That was good for me as a way to ease into memory care. Letting someone else do some of the care.
Feel free to continue this dialog. Also, I hope you are in a support group. Maybe this is where you’re hearing that you should look at placement. The Alzheimer’s Association has a free help line staffed by professionals. They might be able to give good, unbiased thoughts.
Renée
Thank you for your insightful thoughts. I am somewhat connected to a support group, but because I am always with my husband , it’s hard to connect except through email or text.
sleep is a big deal for me also to function at my best during the day. That has started to be interrupted. I also have concerns for safety. He had had a few episodes of poor judgment that have ended up in house repairs and broken tools . I have great friends that are looking from the outside in, and are encouraging me to move towards memory care. I have it scheduled for Monday. We have gone together numerous times to look at our new apartment (Fiblet) thank you for the term. He seems very happy when we’re there and they are so nice . This is one of the hardest transitions ever for me. He’s the love of my life. I know God will help me. Thanks again for sharing your thoughts . It gives me hope that I am doing the most loving thing for him.