My mother and father were frugal parents. They never bought designer label jeans or brand-name outerwear. Their frugality stemmed from growing up during the Depression era. Every thread was saved to alter clothes, every food scrap reserved for use in other meals. It was no surprise my mother saved everything, including old Styrofoam trays used in meat packaging.
As she aged, she set aside more and more. She accumulated stacks of T-shirts to be used as rags though she had stopped cleaning. Church bulletins piled up by the month. It wasn’t uncommon for those bulletins to have been circulated six months prior. What was she holding on to? Memories, important dates, hope for the future. Mostly, control.
Collecting or hoarding?
My mother had been a collector of many things: Hummel figurines, cookbooks, Royal Doulton statuettes. Then collecting became an obsession. A few extra jelly containers from breakfast at a restaurant turned into an entire array of flavors stacked in the closet. No article of clothing was given away. And she amassed boxes of crackers that were already stocked in her pantry.
According to the Alzheimer’s AssociationPDF document, “Persons with dementia experience memory loss, mental confusion, disorientation, impaired judgment, and behavioral changes. One of these changes may include ‘hoarding’. While hoarding is often harmless, it can become a health and safety issue for the person with dementia.”
My mother was troubled by parting with anything. If I tossed out those church bulletins, she became fearful of losing her place in the church. If we donated some clothing, she worried it would be needed later. Thankfully, her homes had previously been clutter-free, and her hoarding did not attain the same level as some, causing their living areas to become unsafe or leading to health risks and financial strain.
These behaviors of hoarding, amassing, and even hiding, are more common in the early and middle stages of dementia. Most often, the person is seeking control, or searching for something that has gone missing, not necessarily the proverbial car keys, but forgetting where something was placed. How many times do we, ourselves, panic when unable to locate an item that had just been in our reach only minutes prior? For me, it’s quite often.
Dementia and Delusions
My husband is famous for his line, “Where do we keep…?” This usually implies he knows we own the said object, and he knows he’s seen the object, but can’t recall where it’s kept. I make no attempts to hide anything from him. To him, it might seem that way. In that same vein, we might also develop anxiety when items are not placed within the vicinity in which we expect them or in our sightlines. I chastise my husband often because he’ll move something without knowing my intent for keeping it in my sight. Perhaps it’s an empty laundry soap container on the steps as a reminder to buy more detergent. I have my own code when running the house.
It’s easy to blame someone else for moving the object, for hiding it from another person. However, according to Alzheimers.orgAlzheimers.org, “If the person thinks an item should be somewhere and it’s not, this may lead them to think that someone is hiding or stealing things from them. This is a type of delusion. It can be difficult both for the person and those around them. It can help to try to see things from their point of view. The person with dementia is trying to make sense of their reality and what is happening.”
How To Conquer Misplacement
When all else fails, take these opportunities to label and organize, or to implement technology to locate lost keys, phones and other devices. Yet nothing exists to locate the loss of control over everyday reality. For this, we need to support our loved ones, help them through the anxiety over hoarding and hiding, and give them a framework and an uncluttered space for them to live their lives.
We used to find Mom’s used kitchen towels in the closets. Slips of paper that appeared in drawers, in the pantry, all over countertops and in her bathroom gave my mother some sense of autonomy. And like a good scavenger hunt, she found her way back to reality, or at least, to her peace of mind.
