How to visit someone with dementia

When you visit someone with dementia, start with one swap: don't test their memory, share yours. Instead of "do you remember...?", try "I was just thinking about the summer we..." and let them join in wherever they can. Say your name warmly as you arrive, even if you're sure they know you. Keep the visit short and easy, bring something to do with your hands, and talk to the person, not about them, while they're in the room. They may not remember the visit tomorrow, but the warmth of it tends to outlast the memory, and showing up imperfectly beats staying away.

What one thing makes a visit go well?#

Tell, don't test. The quickest way to make a visit hard is to quiz someone on facts they've lost: names, dates, "do you know who I am?" Each question they can't answer is a small failure handed to them. Swap the test for a gift of memory instead. "I've been thinking about our trip to the lake" invites them in without any pressure to perform. If they add to the story, wonderful. If they just enjoy your warmth, that's the visit working.

What should I say when I arrive?#

Say your name and how you're connected, warmly, as you come in: "Hi Dad, it's Chris," or "Hello Sarah, it's Jane, come to see you." The Alzheimer Society of Canada suggests exactly this, because it spares the person the panic of scrambling to place a familiar face. It isn't a correction or a quiz. It's a small kindness that lets the visit start easy.

What should I talk about?#

Old stories over new questions. The distant past is often the sturdiest ground someone with dementia still stands on, long after this morning has slipped away. Reminisce out loud about shared experiences, bring a few old photos, or play music from their teens and twenties. You're not looking for accurate recall. You're looking for the warmth that a familiar memory still lights up.

What if it's a foggy day and they don't know me?#

Stay gentle, and stay anyway. On a hard day, your tone and your company land even when the words and the names don't. Don't correct, don't quiz, and don't take the not-knowing personally. Meet them where they are, match the calm you'd want, and let simply being there be enough. A quiet, kind presence is its own gift on the days when conversation won't come.

Four small swaps for a better visit.

What should I bring or do together?#

Bring your hands. Something to do together beats sitting across from each other interviewing: a dog to pat, cards to shuffle, something from the garden, a familiar song, a short walk outside for the fresh air. The Alzheimer Society of Canada's guidance on meaningful visits suggests shared, low-pressure activities like these, because doing something together carries a visit even when conversation is thin.

How long should I stay?#

Short and sweet, most of the time. A good twenty or thirty minutes often lands better than a long afternoon that outlasts everyone's energy. If you're not the primary caregiver, it's worth asking them what length and time of day tend to go best, since that changes from person to person and even hour to hour.

The note you can hand to every visitor#

You shouldn't have to coach each visitor on top of everything else. So here's a short note you can forward or print and pin by the door:

A note for the people who love us

Thank you for visiting. It matters more than you know, so here's the little that helps it go well.

Come anyway. He may not remember the visit tomorrow, but the warmth of it outlasts the memory. A good twenty minutes beats a long afternoon.

Arrive easy. Say your name as you come in ("It's Jane, your niece"), even if you're sure he knows it. It spares him the scramble.

Tell, don't test. Skip "do you remember...?" Try "I was thinking about the summer we..." and let him join in wherever he can.

Old stories beat new questions. The distant past is often the sturdiest ground. Bring photos if you have them.

Bring your hands. A dog to pat, cards to shuffle, something from the garden. Doing together beats interviewing.

On a foggy day, stay gentle and stay anyway. Your tone and your company land even when the words don't.

Talk to him, not about him, while he's in the room.

Be gentle with yourself#

For the caregiver: handing someone this note is not asking too much. It's letting people love your person well, which is a kindness to everyone. For the visitor: you will not do it perfectly, and you don't need to. Showing up a little awkwardly is worth far more than the visit you keep meaning to make.

When someone you're visiting says they want to go home, even while they're sitting in it, there's a gentle way through that too: What to say when they want to go home.

If steady, practical help like this would be welcome, this guide grew out of Again, With Love, our free Sunday-morning newsletter for people caring for someone with dementia.

Again, With Love is a caregiving aid, not medical advice. For medical questions, please talk with your loved one's doctor.