For my mother, Pamela, vascular dementia was the cruel companion she lived with for 10 years until her death. My father, Brian, a fellow journalist and novelist, suffered from Parkinson's disease and its accompanying milder form of dementia, which ravaged his brain for five years before he passed away last year. As they navigated this treacherous terrain, I found solace in reading to them – not just as a distraction but as a bridge between their worlds.
To my surprise, reading had a profound impact on both of their cognitive functions. While they may have been unable to initiate conversations or express their desires, they were still capable of comprehension and following stories. My father would sit silently for hours, his eyes vacant, yet respond positively when I read to him about his favorite author, Arthur Koestler. Similarly, my mother, an avid cat lover, was fully engaged with Doris Lessing's memoir on cats after I began reading aloud to her.
However, it wasn't until I observed their reactions that I realized the extent of their cognitive function. It was as if they had a "switch" within themselves that could be flipped when someone took the time to engage with them through storytelling. This experience taught me that one must never assume someone with a degenerative illness is unable to understand or engage due to silence or uncommunicativeness.
Recent studies have corroborated my findings, highlighting the benefits of reading aloud for people living with dementia. The Reader's charity has reported significant reductions in symptoms and improvements in wellbeing through its reading groups. Philip Davis's research at the University of Liverpool further underscores the value of storytelling as a means to reconnect individuals with dementia.
While I understand that there may be cases where this connection becomes impossible, I firmly believe that assisted dying is not the answer. For those with dementia, "death" comes when they cease functioning physically, not cognitively. Advocacy and support are essential in ensuring their voices are heard, and their lives continue to have meaning.
In a world that can sometimes seem overwhelming, it's these small moments of connection – through reading, conversation, or simply the act of being present for someone – that remind us of the beauty and complexity of human experience.
To my surprise, reading had a profound impact on both of their cognitive functions. While they may have been unable to initiate conversations or express their desires, they were still capable of comprehension and following stories. My father would sit silently for hours, his eyes vacant, yet respond positively when I read to him about his favorite author, Arthur Koestler. Similarly, my mother, an avid cat lover, was fully engaged with Doris Lessing's memoir on cats after I began reading aloud to her.
However, it wasn't until I observed their reactions that I realized the extent of their cognitive function. It was as if they had a "switch" within themselves that could be flipped when someone took the time to engage with them through storytelling. This experience taught me that one must never assume someone with a degenerative illness is unable to understand or engage due to silence or uncommunicativeness.
Recent studies have corroborated my findings, highlighting the benefits of reading aloud for people living with dementia. The Reader's charity has reported significant reductions in symptoms and improvements in wellbeing through its reading groups. Philip Davis's research at the University of Liverpool further underscores the value of storytelling as a means to reconnect individuals with dementia.
While I understand that there may be cases where this connection becomes impossible, I firmly believe that assisted dying is not the answer. For those with dementia, "death" comes when they cease functioning physically, not cognitively. Advocacy and support are essential in ensuring their voices are heard, and their lives continue to have meaning.
In a world that can sometimes seem overwhelming, it's these small moments of connection – through reading, conversation, or simply the act of being present for someone – that remind us of the beauty and complexity of human experience.