When he asks to go see his parents

Hi,

Last week, one of you told us about something that happens in your house in the evenings.

Your husband has Alzheimer's. Some nights he says he needs to go see his parents. He wants to walk over, knock on their door, and see who answers.

His parents died years ago.

We've been thinking about you all week. And you're far from alone. When we asked where everyone is right now, 3 out of 4 of you said you're caring for someone today: late-stage dementia, ALS, strokes, a husband starting home hospice next week. One of you put it this way: "Instead of acting I react."

If that's you some nights, you aren't doing it wrong. You're doing something hard without a map. So that's what these Thursday letters will be from now on: one hard moment, what's usually going on, and one thing to try.

This week, it's the moment he asks to go see his parents, and the pause right after, when you have to decide what to say.

Dementia takes the newest memories first. The oldest ones, like his mother's kitchen and the street he grew up on, often last the longest. So in his mind, it may really be 1958. His parents really are waiting, and he's late.

"Home" usually isn't a place, either. It means safe, familiar, where I belong. That's partly why the asking gets stronger in the late afternoon and evening, when the light changes and restlessness and confusion tend to peak.

Near the very end of life, many people also start talking about going home, or about seeing someone who has died. Hospice teams hear this often. For most people, it seems to bring comfort, not fear.

Answer the feeling, not the facts.

Telling him "your parents died" can make him lose them all over again, every time he asks. You don't have to correct him, and you don't have to pretend. Try:

Then gently bring him back to something here: a photo album, a snack, a small job like folding towels. Most of the time, the feeling passes faster than an argument would.

If he's already at the door, try not to block it. Put on your coat and say, "I'll walk with you." Go a little way together, let him talk about them, then turn back: "It's getting cold. Let's go home and get warm." Walking beside him usually goes better than standing in his way.

One more thing: if this is new, or it came on suddenly, tell your hospice nurse or doctor. A quick jump in confusion can be a sign of something treatable, like an infection or pain.

It also helps to jot down when it happens: the time, what seemed to set it off, and what helped. After a few days you may see a pattern, and your nurse will want to see it too. We made the Hospice Comfort & Care Log for exactly this. It has a large-print daily page with a spot for restlessness in the morning, afternoon and night, and a page for every call with your nurse. It's a paperback on Amazon, or there's a printable version you can print tonight.

One quick question before you go:

And to the reader who wrote to us: thank you. When he goes looking for his parents, he's looking for the people who made him feel safe. Some evenings, that's you.

Has something worked for you when your person asked to go home? Hit reply and tell us. A real person reads every reply, and we never share names.

With you,
The Hospice Guide

P.S. Next Thursday's letter: when they stop eating. Why it happens near the end, what it does and doesn't mean, and what you can offer instead. (The Care Log has a page for that one, too.)

Know someone who'd want these letters? Share your personal link. When one person joins, we'll send you a printable thank-you: "What to Say, What to Skip."

Struggling to keep going? Call or text 988, any time.

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