Dementia Inspirational Quotes

To care for those who once cared for us is one of the highest honors.

Affirmations are our mental vitamins, providing the supplementary positive thoughts we need to balance the barrage of negative events and thoughts we experience daily.

Caregiving often calls us to lean into love we didn't know possible.

In the heart or every caregiver is a knowing that we are all connected. As I do for you, I do for me.

I love you but I got to love me more.

By loving you more, you love the person you are caring for more.

What’s outside my head and what’s inside my head aren’t worth mentioning. What’s worth mentioning is what’s on my head – my hair. Whatever happens, I’ll still be as fashionably coiffed as I was before the war broke out and I got dementia.

He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a girl so I didn’t get one you sicko.-- Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way

Never give up hope! If you do, you be dead already.

Never give up hope. If you do, you'll be dead already.--Dementia Patient, Rose from The Inspired Caregiver

Never give up hope. If you do, you'll be dead already.-- Dementia Patient Rose in The Inspired Caregiver

Butterfly Kisses Aged imperfections stitched upon my face years and years of wisdom earned by His holy grace. Quiet solitude in a humble home all the family scattered now like nomads do they roam. Then a gift sent from above a memory pure and tangible wrapped in innocence and unquestioning love. A butterfly kiss lands gently upon my cheek from an unseen child a kiss most sweet. Heaven grants grace and tears follow as youth revisits this empty hollow.

Dementia isn’t the only place that memories are found to be flawed—people find out they can’t rely on their memories every day. People blindsided in relationships. People who find out their truth is a lie. People pulled from trauma. People awakened, as in Anna and Eve. I wondered: If you can’t use memories to steer your life, what can you use? I didn’t know. It was why I had to write this book.

I believe that most caregivers find that they inherit a situation where they just kind of move into caregiving. It's not a conscious decision for most caregivers, and they are ultimately left with the responsibility of working while still trying to be the caregiver, the provider, and the nurturer.- Sharon Law Tucker

All that I forget, I feel.

When a fine old carpet is eaten by mice, the colors and patterns of what's left behind do not change,' wrote my neighbor and friend, the poet Jane Hirschfield, after she visited an old friend suffering from Alzheimer's disease in a nursing home. And so it was with my father. His mind did not melt evenly into undistinguishable lumps, like a dissolving sand castle. It was ravaged selectively, like Tintern Abbey, the Cistercian monastery in northern Wales suppressed in 1531 by King Henry VIII in his split with the Church of Rome. Tintern was turned over to a nobleman, its stained-glass windows smashed, its roof tiles taken up and relaid in village houses. Holy artifacts were sold to passing tourists. Religious statues turned up in nearby gardens. At least one interior wall was dismantled to build a pigsty. I've seen photographs of the remains that inspired Wordsworth: a Gothic skeleton, soaring and roofless, in a green hilly landscape. Grass grows in the transept. The vanished roof lets in light. The delicate stone tracery of its slim, arched quatrefoil windows opens onto green pastures where black-and-white cows graze. Its shape is beautiful, formal, and mysterious. After he developed dementia, my father was no longer useful to anybody. But in the shelter of his broken walls, my mother learned to balance her checkbook, and my heart melted and opened. Never would I wish upon my father the misery of his final years. But he was sacred in his ruin, and I took from it the shards that still sustain me.

Fiona couldn't summon a smile. His grandfather sighed. 'If you insist on pity, then really you must pity yourself. Your head is still very empty.' Fionn frowned, indignation jostling the urge to cry fro a precious, fleeting second. His grandfather chuckled. 'Start filling it up, lad. That is your greatest responsibility. To live a life of breathless wonder, so that when it begins to fade from you, you will feel the shadow of its happiness still inside you and the blissful sense that you laughed the loudest, loved the deepest, and lived fearlessly, even as the specifics of it all melt away.

I stepped somewhat apprehensively into 2020, unaware of what was to happen, of course, thinking little about the newly-emerged coronavirus, but knowing myself to be at a tipping point in my life. I had come so very far over the years, the decades, from my birthplace in the United Kingdom, to Thailand, Japan and then back to Thailand to arrive at an age—how had I clocked up so many turns under the sun?—at which most people ask for nothing more than comfort, security and love, or at least loving kindness. Instead, I was slowly extricating myself, physically and emotionally, from a marriage that had, over the course of more than a decade, slowly, almost imperceptibly, deteriorated from complacency to conflict, from apathy to antagonism, from diversity to divergence as our respective outlooks on life first shifted and then conflicted. Instrumental in exacerbating this had been my decision to travel as and where I could after witnessing my mother’s devastating and terminal descent into dementia. For reasons which even now I cannot recall with any accuracy, the first destination for this reborn, more daring me was Tibet, thus initiating a new love affair, this time with the culture and majesty of the Himalayan swathe, and the awakening within me of a quest for the spiritual. I had, over the years, been a teacher, a lecturer, a consultant and an advisor, but I now wanted to inspire and release my verbal and photographic creativity, to capture the places I visited and the experiences I had in words and images—and if possible to have the wherewithal of sharing them with like-minded people.

WHO IS YOUR TEACHER? Everyone you come across is your Teacher, ..Family members, as they teach you sacrifice and unconditional love; ...Friends, as they teach you how to share joy and sorrow; ...Young kids, as they teach you patience, and “to live for the day”; ...Beggars, as they teach you generosity and compassion; ... L-learner drivers, as they teach you patience; ....Pick-pockets, as they teach you to manage emotions, letting go, forgive and forget; and .... Those who are with disability and those with dementia; as they teach you empathy and (lots of) patience. So you see, there is no lack of good Teachers, it’s just that we are bad Students, We learn but we never practise.

a dementia sufferer effuses delight and notices very different things when taken out in her wheelchair. Such people can teach us to see again the little things that make a big difference. They can show us how to enjoy familiar environments with fresh new eyes.

No man when conscious attains to true or inspired intuition, but rather when the power of intellect is fettered in sleep or by disease or dementia”;

Life is precious. From the unborn child to the person with dementia who doesn’t realize they’re in this world. Their lives are still important.

Read this mental healing and strengthening book to your beloved grandpa/grandma and strengthen your family bonding in Christ. Help them to find their way in this life. Help them from being lost in the mind and ways through dementia. If your grandparents can still read, bless them with this salvation from Alzheimers healing book as a gift from you. Tell grandma she is your best friend and anounce to grumpy grandpa that he is your good and inspiring friend whom you love so dearly. This Holy Spirit breathed book allows you to feel strongly that parenting does not stop at all. When you have old grandparents, you are a parent at any age through your love for them.