The Festive Tree: Embracing All Seasons With Alzheimer's

My grandma recently moved into a long-term care home following an infection and a stay in a rehabilitation hospital. Despite a quarantine for the initial weeks, followed by a respiratory outbreak, she’s settled in surprisingly well, even telling my aunt on one of the first days, “I think this is a good place to be.”

Every year since my grandpa passed in 2014, I have gone to her house to decorate her Christmas tree. First with her, then for her as she looked on. She moved in over the holidays, and while essential designated visitors (my mom and her siblings) were allowed in, general visitors like me were not. So, I decorated her little tree at home, my mom and I wrapped it in plastic, and my mom carried it in, ready to go, and made the “repairs” as she fluffed the tree back up.

But as the holiday season ended, my grandma remained attached to her little tree. And I got an idea.

A little bit of green

The familiarity of routines is so important for people with Alzheimer’s, and I think that cozy holiday decor of a Christmas tree is like that. We had to swap her usual small artificial tree (which I used this year!) for my smaller Christmas tree, but she thought it was cute. When I was finally able to visit after Christmas, I told her she and I would trade Christmas trees this year, and she seemed okay with that!

I have been able to visit twice now over the last 8 days, and the tree is a favorite topic of conversation! My mom hinted that she wasn’t sure how we would get the tree out of there, and I thought, “Why do we have to? Let’s just decorate it for every season!” It felt like the perfect way of embracing all seasons of Alzheimer’s, and all the seasons of the year, together.

A tree of memories

Back when my grandma lived at her house, I hopped on the bus one day and went to help put the Christmas decorations away. My grandma said to me, “Oh, don’t worry about taking the tree down; I’ll take it down later.”

I tucked the tree into the corner of her living room. “Hey, I kind of like it there,” she said.

“Maybe we should just leave it and see how long until anyone notices?” I suggested.

This is the mildest form of conspiracy, but over the next year, my grandma and I would secretly revisit how nobody had commented on the undecorated Christmas tree in the corner. It went on from January to November, until we sat with my mom and aunt, and one of them said, “Guess it’s time to get the Christmas tree back up.”

More than 10 months had passed. My grandma and I locked eyes, then shifted our gaze to the corner of the room, mere feet from where my aunt sat on the love seat, where the little tree had been casually tucked behind the coffee table.

My mom and aunt followed our gaze, and my grandma and I laughed at their disbelief. Indeed, the tree had been out all year, and at the very least, it brought her and me a stealthy joy! And if that joy persists... embrace it!

Changing with the seasons: Embracing all seasons with Alzheimer’s

As mid-January hit, we prepared the seasonal tree swap. On my first visit after the respiratory outbreak protocol finally ended, my grandma laughed as we showed her the red paper heart decorations my mom had found at the dollar store, and we swapped her Christmas decorations for Valentine’s Day ones.

Every time we entered her room, the lights on the little Christmas tree were on. The day we swapped the decorations, the staff commented excitedly on her little Valentine’s Day tree, and I am sure they kept doing so after we left.

She is so proud of that little tree, and it has proved to be a great, positive conversation starter. A week later, my grandma started talking about her little tree again, ready for Valentine’s Day, and she smiled and laughed. I told her (twice!) about our plans for that tree as the seasons change!

Next up: a St. Patrick’s Day garland. Then Easter decorations, including a garland of glittery eggs and carrots I found at the dollar store, some little rabbits my mom found at home, and some spring hanging eggs with flowers on them! After Easter, I'll wrap it with some fun, flowery spring ribbon, and I can lend her some of my rainbows from my Christmas decoration box!

I have ordered a pair of cheap kids’ sunglasses to be the summer tree topper and go with my popsicle string lights. I plan to find and turn some of those tiny drink umbrellas into a garland to hang from the branches.

We can add red bead strands, maple leaf pinwheels, and little flags for Canada Day, then quickly revert back to the “Summer Tree” after July 1. Then will come the beautiful colors of fall, and perhaps a Halloween tree... I will have to think of an interim step between Halloween and Christmas before we start the cycle again!

A brief sense of pride and fun

Disorientation to time and place is all too real in Alzheimer’s disease. Does the tree help that? Maybe sometimes. Yes, she asked if we had already had Christmas in January, but Christmas remained on her radar as the snow continued to cover the ground, which feels like a win.

Will a Valentine’s tree or summer tree be too abstract to give that grounding? Perhaps, we will find out!

But even if all we get is to hear her laugh as we redecorate for every minor and major holiday, to see a brief sense of pride at her silly granddaughter and daughter, and to hear her pride as the staff share in the joy of her festive tree when they come to care for her... that’s what embracing all seasons with Alzheimer’s is all about!

Have you found special ways to celebrate even the “small things” with your loved one? What helps you both find joy or humor?