According to Google’s AI Overview, “dementia” is a general term (under which Alzheimer’s disease falls) for “a group of conditions that cause a progressive decline in cognitive functions, such as memory, thinking, reasoning, and problem-solving.” In 2022, 4% of US adults aged 65 and older reported having been diagnosed with dementia, according to the Center for Disease Control — a figure of around 7 million people, and a number that will likely double by 2060.

Many of us at the Branch have engaged in the ministry of caring for elderly parents with dementia — Greta and I spent the better part of five-and-a-half-years caring for her mom, over two of which were in our home.

Here are some things we learned that may help you if you’re either caring for a parent at present, or discern that you’ll be caring for a parent in the future:

See it as a calling: as both Exodus 20:12 and Ephesians 6:2–3 instruct us to “Honor your father and your mother,” Greta and I committed to this truth of scripture and purposed to serve Louetta (“Lu”) “heartily, as unto the Lord” (Colossians 3:23). I’ve found that a conviction to do something based upon a calling can be like an anchor when storms arise and can be the ballast to endure over a long term commitment. This is especially true if the care is in your home, as for over two years Lu’s presence and needs made our home feel more like hers than ours.

Cope with the illness: while we had a textbook definition of dementia, our best education came from living with Lu. We learned to separate the effects and actions of the illness with the person who we knew Lu to be, so when her behavior turned anti-social (anger, paranoia, accusations) we understood it to be her biology, not her personality. This was especially helpful for Greta, for the aberrant behavior of a mom aimed at a daughter was often quite hurtful. Regardless, Greta was resolute in her care — bad behavior, according to her, was “not my mom, but the disease.” Separating the two helped.

Enlist help: for us, a seven day a week, twenty-four hour a day commitment to caretaking was not helpful for either us or for Lu. For us, while we did not need formal medical help in caring for her, the help that we did get — such as my sister-in-law and her daughter visiting and taking Lu each week — was a chance for us to catch our breath, and to enjoy a space of time as a couple. And not only were we helped, but we found that the interaction and fellowship that Heidi and Hanna provided were quite edifying to Lu.

Be proactive: from a legal and financial standpoint, we learned that it’s best to put things such as being granted authority to transact daily financial decision (bills, etc.), Power of Attorney and Health Care Directives in place before they are needed. My mom always said, “a stitch in time saves nine,” and I firmly believe that saying. And from a household standpoint, we learned to remove physical barriers in a timely fashion, such as installing faucets with automatic shutoffs, and adding emotional aids, such as pictures and art that comforted Lu with their familiarity to her. Learn as you go.

Be Christlike: finally, as Sean taught us on Sunday, remember that “the Cross precedes the Crown” — while ministering intimately and consistently to those with dementia does involve the suffering of denying one’s flesh for the sake of another — the Spirit of God in us will always rise us to the occasion as we yield to Him. My blueprint, especially in tough times, was 1 Corinthians 13:4–8: “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

In 2025, now with almost two years of hindsight we’re resolute in our conviction that we served Lu well, and that we honored both her and honored the Lord to the best of our ability. And we’ve grown to be better, fuller Christians because of it.