My wife’s birthday was a few weeks away.
Should I buy her a gift?
The reason I ask this question is that my wife has dementia. She is now at a stage where she cannot pronounce words, where she does not always respond to my visits. And even if I told her her birthday was coming up, there was no way to know if she would understand what I was saying.
In the first years after her diagnosis she was aware of events such as her birthday. And as a loving husband I will bring her a gift – earrings and scarves are her two favorite things. I gave up trying on clothes a long time ago because it was difficult to find out if an item would fit unless you tried it on.
I also used to get her CDs from some of her favorite artists. I think she actually loves Bob Dylan more than me! And I knew she’d like books – for example, Mel Brooks’ memoir from a few years ago. and history books, which is his passion.
Now things are different.
And even if I turn to my two favorite gift categories… she doesn’t wear earrings anymore and she definitely has too many scarves already. I can buy her a book and read it out loud to her but there is no way to know if she will understand. And CDs belong in the dustbin of history.
Plus she has an Alexa device for her room so someone can order one of her favorite songs: “Alexa, play the Beatles.”
Now let me be clear. As dementia robs people of their memories, a partner doesn’t really need to remember milestone dates: wedding anniversaries, Mother’s Day, birthdays.
I can’t ask Marsha to confirm this. But I believe that if I miss any of these chances, he won’t even know.
So it wouldn’t be a bad thing to separate yourself from these enjoyable (and yes, sometimes stressful) responsibilities of couple life. I have a new set of responsibilities now – I visit pretty much every day, talk to her about all sorts of things, rub her back, take her for walks (in her wheelchair as she has lost the ability to walk).
Still, how can I give myself a pass? Even in this sad new phase of our relationship, I still want happy moments, moments that remind me (and I hope Marsha) of our past.
Even if he doesn’t have the words to say, “Thank you, darling!” I want to believe that somehow she understands this is a special moment.
Over the past few years, I’ve gravitated toward gifts that elicit an immediate reaction. And that means food.
She lives in a group home for people with cognitive and other age-related problems. Her food is home-made and delicious (sometimes I eat in silence). The house follows the Jewish laws of kashrut, so I can’t cook something in my non-kosher kitchen and bring it to him.
But if I find a food product that has the kosher seal of approval, then it’s… well, kosher. Ice cream is his favorite food. It was from Marsha that I learned that you can have a big bowl of ice cream For Dinner instead of dinner from time to time.
So ice cream was an obvious choice. And coffee is his favorite taste.
humble brag; This proved to be an example of genius on my part. I bought a container of Häagen-Dazs coffee ice cream. After dinner, the staff brought out a bowl. The smile on his face when he tasted that deep, luscious coffee was amazing. I think it was bigger than the smile she flashed when she looked at me in a good moment.
Another favorite is watermelon – even in the winter, when her birthday comes around I will try to find a personal watermelon, which she always enjoys.
But this year, as I thought about her birthday approaching, something happened. I was passing by a clothing store and saw a sweater in the window. And I was amazed: that sweater So Marsha.
It was a beautiful, trim cardigan, with black and charcoal gray stripes across the shoulders and upper chest, and a red stripe running down the buttons.
She will love that sweater.
I had two questions: Of course, one question was “will this be suitable”?
Second question: should I also buy it? She has a full wardrobe in her room, which works well in an environment where she needs to be groomed by others and comfort is important.
So to put it bluntly: why spend money on a sweater she doesn’t really need and can’t even fully appreciate because her ability to focus visually has declined.
I asked both of our daughters. They agreed that this sweater was very Marsha. So I bought it.
The girls recommended a certain size. When he saw the sweater, he said, “Dad, it will be too tight, look at the sleeves. It will never fit and be comfortable.”
I kept hope. And of course I can always return to it.
On the day of his birthday all three of us came to meet him. “We have presents!” I had said. My younger daughter says she saw a smile light up on Marsha’s face. Then we helped her wear the sweater.
It was a birthday miracle. The sweater fits.
Andrea Cohn, the wise and supportive nurse practitioner who cared for Marsha’s dementia-related issues, says that dementia is a disease of moments.
I’ve learned that you can’t predict what a person with dementia will be like from moment to moment. On some of my visits, Marsha remains dozing most of the time. Sometimes she just stares blankly. Sometimes she seems to respond to the music, sometimes not. Sometimes she gets excited and her face shows it – maybe she has a need and can’t find the words to express it.
But this time, with her two daughters and husband, wearing a stylish new sweater, she gave us a beautiful smile. His face lit up. She looked… well, she looked like the Marsha I’ve known and loved for decades, dressed in a snazzy new outfit.
I’ve talked to Andrea about Marsha’s smile. I want to believe that they reflect a real moment of happiness despite everything. Andrea agrees – he is not capable of faking emotions at this stage.
What did this year’s birthday teach me about gifts?
I know that gifts are just material things – they’re just things. Many birthday celebrants will hold a party and tell invitees: “The only gift I want is your presence.”
This is totally true for all of us who have too much stuff and don’t really need more.
I do give my presence – even though the visits can be so difficult, bringing tears – before, after and during. This visit reinforces how much we have both lost to this cruel and incurable disease.
But on his birthday, this moment of gift giving gave me another insight. Even though we’ve lost a lot due to dementia, our family is still connected by our deep love — and, in this case, our love of clothes! That sweater made Marsha, our daughters, and me happy. Which is the best birthday gift of all.
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