June 10, 2026
Something about the rain triggers a mood change in Mom. It’s as if she can sense the weather long before it arrives because the warning signs appear in her first: increased confusion, withdrawal, and a reluctance to engage. Dementia has taught me that Mom is deeply influenced by her environment. She not only reacts to it but often seems to absorb and express the feelings it brings.
Since we opened up the sunroom, I have noticed how positively she responds to a space that feels warm, colorful, and comfortable. It has become a place where she can relax and simply be. But today, a thunderstorm arrived with heavy sideways rain, forcing us to close the sunroom until the sun could return to warm and dry it out.
The day began slowly. It took a special effort to coax Mom out of bed. A warm bath helped awaken some positive feelings, and the gentle comfort of a hair dryer afterward left her feeling fresh and cared for. There is a dignity in those simple acts of honoring her.
Later, moving her into another room for lunch and changing her environment triggered fear and agitation that I do not often see. She struggled through lunch as the rain intensified outside. When the thunder rolled, her anxiety grew. She felt cold, kept her head down, and covered her face. The storm outside seemed to find its way into her spirit.
Dad holds a key to communication when no one else can unlock the door.
“Do you want some ice cream?” he asked gently.
“NO,” Mom snapped.
“Do you want some ice cream with chocolate syrup drizzled on top?” he asked even more gently.
“Well, okay, because that will make me happy.”
And just like that, the clouds parted.
She smiled with joy and ate the entire bowl of ice cream.
“How romantic,” I teased, knowing how much Mom and Dad have always treasured sharing ice cream together as a date. Some memories live deeper than words. Even when so much has been taken by dementia, the feelings connected to love and simple pleasures still find their way to the surface.
Speaking of dates, Mom and Dad were taken to Poplar Forest Nursery. They each picked out flowers that caught their fancy—unique varieties not found at the big box stores. The new selections were planted and added to the sunroom. When Mom woke from her nap, she went straight there.
To her delight, she was greeted by Melanie for a sweet visit. The rain had washed away the humidity, and the returning sunshine warmed the seating area. Surrounded by flowers, and family, everyone enjoyed a peaceful time of fellowship.
The storm that had brought fear earlier in the day eventually gave way to comfort and connection. And somehow, in the middle of it all, a bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup became more than dessert. It became a reminder that joy can still be found, that love still speaks its own language, and that sometimes happiness arrives in the simplest forms.
