“The Day I Argued About a Green Car and Lost My Sanity in My Own Yard”

A Catholic woman’s guide to surviving dementia, meltdowns & Jesus-take-the-wheel moment 

Most days I know that Jesus loves me. Some days I feel like the Lord is testing me gently. Other days, He throws the entire Book of Job in my direction and says, “your turn!”

Today was a book-of-Job day! My father, God bless him, was up at 5.00 a.m. Not gently waking. No. Fully UP. Alert. Ready for battle. Today we had planned to go out and deal with some financial matters.  Our appointment was for 11.00 a.m but he was ready at 5.00 a.m.

When we were finished with our business and I was making a  lil small talk on the way home. We were laughing and everything was fine until he started telling me about his green car and I said one small, innocent sentence: “Daddy, you do not have a green car.”

And just like that… Armageddon.

He looked at me as if I had personally set fire to the Ten Commandments. He looked at me with both anger and disappointment at the same time. Suddenly, I’m in an argument defending the truth about a CAR THAT DOES NOT EXIST. Meanwhile, he is passionately defending the honour of a vehicle he has never owned.

I don’t know how many times I said, “Daddy, you don’t have a green car,” but I do know the angels stopped trying to help me after the 12th round. This led to a three-hour total meltdown!

We reached home. You think he calmed down?  No.

The Green Car Crisis continued for THREE hours. Three hours of: confusion, frustration, repeating re-explaining and me questioning my entire life and every decision I ever made. “Why me Lord?”

At some point I said, let me leave this place before I get mad too. So, I walked to my car, praying the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Serenity Prayer, and whatever else came to mind. I reversed my car. I breathed. I blinked. BOOM! I hit something.  The wall, my back light, was now broken and hanging out!  It never rains unless it pours!  I sat in my car and just burst into tears.

The truth is life with Daddy has now become an unpredictable blend of comedy and chaos. Some mornings he wakes up convinced today is 1992. Other days he insists he has a meeting with people who haven’t been alive in decades. And then there are days; my favourite days…where he is sweet, calm, smiling, and telling me stories about his youth with crystal clarity…. I listen and smile although I have heard the same story ten thousand times!

Listen to me… caring for ageing parents is not for the weak. It certainly was not something I would choose for myself, but God chose me for this! You love them. You honour them. You show up for them. But some days they test your salvation.

If you are out there caring for your mother, your father, an aunt, an uncle, an elderly neighbour…Let me tell you something with my whole exhausted chest: You are a soldier of Christ.

The Vatican needs to issue medals for people like us. Because even on the days when you’re running on two hours of sleep, a whisper of patience, and the grace of God alone…Even when meltdowns last three hours…Even when you clatter the car into something because your brain checked out… You are still loving. Still trying. Still showing up. And God sees every single moment.

Caring for ageing parents is messy, hilarious, heartbreaking, exhausting, and sacred all at once. But here is the hope I want to leave with you: God gives special strength to women who care for their families.

Even on the ridiculous days. Even on the meltdown days. Even on the “green car” days. Even on the days when you dent your own vehicle escaping for peace: you are not alone. You are not failing. You are not losing your mind. (Okay, you are, but only a little and Jesus understands.)

I called a friend, in the middle of my personal meltdown, who reminded me of some things I can do to help a loved one who is dealing with dementia.

• First, step into their reality instead of correcting it. Arguing increases anxiety. Sometimes the kindest response is, “Let’s check on it later,” even if the green car never existed.
• Second, create predictable routines. Dementia responds well to structure. Try maintaining the same morning, meal, and bedtime rhythms.
• Thirdly, simplify their environment. Soft lighting, familiar music, reduced noise, and clear pathways help reduce confusion.
• Fourth,  give reassurance, not explanation. In this case emotional comfort works better than logic.
• And finally, take care of yourself too. Caregiving is heavy. Rest, accept help, and give yourself grace. Your well-being is part of their wellbeing.

Be blessed my friends, we are in this together!!!!!!!