When we step into the role of caregiver, especially for a parent or aging loved one, it’s often accompanied by a mix of emotions: love, duty, sadness, even frustration. But what if, woven within those difficult days, were sacred opportunities to rediscover joy? What if caregiving could become a season not just of sacrifice, but of honor?

That’s what I experienced in my journey as a caregiver for my father, who battled Alzheimer’s. By choosing to see and honor the parts of him that remained, I found connection, dignity, and even joy in our final season together.

Recognizing the Person Behind the Diagnosis

My father was always somewhat of a neat freak or maybe you would say orderly. As an accountant, he lived by precision and neatness. When Alzheimer’s began to steal much of his memory, this part of his personality remained strong—even intensified.

A simple trip to the Dollar Tree would become a mission for tidiness. He’d stop to pick up fallen items or rearrange shelves. At first, I struggled. We were on a timeline. I felt impatient. But then I realized: this wasn’t just a behavior—this was him. Still expressing his values. Still needing to contribute.

So I leaned in. I helped him put the items he pick up the correct place. We made a great team and I saw the peace in his eyes.

Dignity Through Purpose

As dementia progresses, it’s easy to want to take over tasks to keep our loved ones safe. But instead of removing meaningful activities altogether, what if we adapted them?

My dad loved raking leaves. When it became unsafe for him to be in the front yard, I locked the gate and let him care for the back yard and eventually he focused just on the deck. When the leaves stoped falling, I tossed already-bagged leaves back onto the deck to give him something to do. He felt needed, purposeful—like himself.

These moments taught me that dignity doesn’t disappear with disease. It just needs to be reimagined.

Finding the Person in the Patient

In the routine of caregiving—the meds, the meals, the monitoring—it’s easy to lose sight of the person. But every one of our loved ones has a lifetime of stories, traits, and values that still live inside them.

Maybe your mom was the family cook. She might not manage the stove anymore, but she can stir, taste, and share in the ritual. Maybe your dad was the fixer. He may not handle tools, but he can still hand you a wrench or sort a toolbox.

These aren’t just activities—they’re anchors to identity.

Why This Matters

When we honor the essence of who our loved one has always been, caregiving becomes less about control and more about connection.

It reminds them: I see you. Not just your illness.

And it reminds us: This is still someone we love, not just someone we manage.

The Caregiver’s Reward

Those leaf-raking days?

They weren’t efficient.

They weren’t convenient.

But they were holy. Shared purpose created sacred space where father and daughter could meet again.

Rayna Neises understands the joys and challenges that come from a season of caring. She helped care for both of her parents during their separate battles with Alzheimer’s over a thirty-year span. She is able to look back on those days now with no regrets – and she wishes the same for every woman caring for aging parents.

To help others through this challenging season of life, Rayna has written No Regrets: Hope for Your Caregiving Season, a book filled with her own heart-warming stories and practical suggestions for journeying through a caregiving season. She is also the author of Hope for a Caring Heart Journal- a 90 day journey of prayer, reflection and gratitude. Rayna is an ICF Associate Certified Coach with certifications in both Life and Leadership Coaching from the Professional Christian Coaching Institute.

She is prepared to help you through your own season of caring. Learn more at ASeasonOfCaring.com and connect with Rayna on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram.

Read other articles by Rayna