Best friends and dementia

The person whom you can say anything to, who understands how you tick and has seen you at your absolute best and worst.  A best friend, bestie, bosom buddy, soulmate; I think most of us would agree that they are fundamental to our sanity, happiness and life.

My mum lived a long life and had many friends, but she found her deepest and dearest friendship whilst living in a dementia unit.  After her first day in the dementia unit, I can still clearly see mum sitting on the couch talking to Maera like they’d known each other forever.  Maera, who lived with a brain injury, became her truest and dearest friend, with a connection that went deeper than most. 

I believe that a person living with dementia, young children or pets provide the best friendship for people living with dementia.  They usually come with no judgement or annoyance, and they accept the person for their true selves.  The amygdala (part of the brain responsible for emotional processes) of a person living with dementia responds to this; they instinctively know that this person or animal makes them feel safe and secure.  I believe this formed the basis of the profound relationship between mum and Maera. 

Their friendship gave true validation; they met each other in their time and place, regardless of how right or wrong it was.  One would say something wrong, or make up a story, and the other wouldn’t correct them or disagree.  Neither of them had to practice this, it was innately part of their brain changes.  Such a gift deepened their connection, and made them feel truly seen and heard by each other.  When Mum thought she had been for a swim, without any hesitation Maera would rejoice along with Mum.  I would try to delight in mum’s joy, but I found it much harder, knowing that Mum hadn’t actually been for a swim. 

In this space they regularly told each other amazing, confabulated stories; sometimes it was like they were in another world.  A world of acceptance, freedom and joy, where they were able to truly be in the moment with each other.  What a pleasure to watch, let alone experience.    

Mum and Maera were blessed to share their joy of music and singing.  They loved singing together and Mum’s eyes would light up when Maera would start playing her guitar.  It was their ‘happy place, which I believe provides nourishment for the soul and identity of self.  This shared happiness added further connection to their amazing friendship. 

Their friendship also established a connection with each other’s family and whanau.  I treasured the many interactions I had with Maera, and I felt I had a heart connection with her due to being Mum’s daughter. This was evident visiting the dementia unit two years later after Mum had passed away; Maera gave me a big hug, we both had tears in our eyes, and we spent our time talking about our shared memories with Mum.  Memories that I cherish to this day. 

Within the world of dementia and brain changes, Mum and Maera’s friendship found true aroha.  They gave each other the profound gift to be their true selves, celebrating in each other’s honesty and uniqueness.  

Thank you both for providing such a shining example of true friendship, whilst radiating happiness and delight to all those around you.