Memory Care Survival Guide, Part 1: Simple Ways to Make the Day Easier (When Nothing About Care Is Easy)
Memory Care Survival Guide, Part 1: Simple Ways to Make the Day Easier (When Nothing About Care Is Easy)
If you’re caring for someone with memory loss, you don’t need another glossy brochure telling you to practice self-care while you’re fishing dirty socks out of the kitchen sink and trying not to cry.
What actually helps are real stories, practical advice, and honest strategies from someone who’s been there. Late-night Google searches, family drama, guilt, dark humor, and those tiny wins are what keep you going.
Quick summary: Caring for someone with memory loss is chaotic, emotional, and lonely. This guide offers simple, real-life ways to build routines, make daily tasks easier, handle tough moments, and protect your energy. It won’t make caregiving easy, but it can make it more manageable—one small step at a time.
Welcome to the chaos: the constant second-guessing and the feeling that you never quite get it right, even when you might be doing better than you think.
This guide is part of a series on what actually helps with memory care at home: routines that work on hard days, small shifts that help you stay grounded when things fall apart, and quiet ways to protect your energy while caring for your loved one. You’ll find familiar advice, new stories, and an unfiltered look at life as a caregiver for someone who is both brilliant and fiercely independent, even with Alzheimer’s.
If you’ve ever wondered, “Why did no one warn me about this part?” you’re in the right place.
When Caregiving Feels Like Chaos (Because It Is)
If you care for someone with memory loss, you know what chaos feels like. Sudden changes, repeated questions, sleepless nights, and the constant worry that you’re not doing enough can be overwhelming. Feeling frustrated, sad, or guilty (sometimes all before breakfast) is normal. That’s part of the job they forgot to list in the brochure.
Add in family confusion and dysfunction, and it’s no mystery why people tell me, “You should write a book.” I can’t promise the book will write itself, but I can share what I’ve learned: what usually works, what doesn’t, and what sometimes works (until it doesn’t) in memory care at home.
Every situation is different. What works for one family might be a disaster for another. Your relationship, your loved one’s personality, their needs, and your own time, money, health, and boundaries all shape each day.
If your loved one was always organized and independent, they may do best with routines that let them participate and feel in control—like checking off a simple morning list together or choosing their clothes for the day. Someone who thrives on humor might respond better to turning chores into a sing-along or a game of “how many towels can we fold before the commercial break.” If your loved one gets anxious with surprises, quiet, predictable rituals—like the same cup of tea each afternoon or sitting in the sun in a familiar spot—can help them feel safer. The “right” approach depends on them, on you, and on what works today.
This guide is for those days when you feel stretched thin, pulled in every direction, and half convinced you’re the only one barely holding it together. We’ll look at simple, realistic ways to find small moments of calm in the mess, so you can breathe a little easier, feel less alone, and remember you’re doing one of the hardest—and most loving—jobs there is.
This is memory care for the fiercely independent—the “I don’t need help” person who might say, “Why are you asking me? I have Alzheimer’s. I can’t remember shit.”
In this first part, we’ll talk about:
Creating tiny routines when life feels completely unpredictable
Simplifying daily tasks so you’re not carrying everything in your head
Protecting your own energy and asking for help without feeling like you’ve failed
This isn’t about becoming a perfect caregiver. It’s about finding strategies that make the hard days just a little more livable.
Part 1: One Small Routine (Not a Perfect Schedule)
When you’re caring for someone with memory loss, the idea of a “daily routine” can sound like a bad joke. Plans change, moods swing, and what worked beautifully yesterday might fall apart before coffee.
So instead of aiming for a perfect schedule, start with one small, repeatable moment. Something gentle you can both come back to. How the day starts and ends matters. Maybe that’s your “schedule” for now.
A Real‑Life Example of Plans Changing
Surprise visits and group visits do not work for us. For you, they might. We schedule outings and visits. Maybe your loved one just rolls with whatever’s on the calendar.
Neither way is wrong. These are personal journeys—for the person needing care and the person giving it. It’s not about control; it’s about managing crises as you go. #iykyk
Crisis management is just figuring out how to handle the latest bump without losing your balance completely.
One afternoon, we planned a quick grocery run. Bags ready, list made, shoes in hand. At the door, my loved one suddenly refused to put on shoes and insisted we stay home. I could feel my own frustration ready to explode. Instead, I paused, took a breath, recognized a meltdown brewing, and changed the plan. We stayed in and made a snack instead—something familiar and comforting. Instacart became Plan B for the groceries. (Bless you, delivery apps.)
The goal isn’t to force the plan. The goal is to notice when things are about to unravel and calmly change direction. Real-life crisis management in memory care is paying attention to right now, letting go of the script, and choosing the easiest path forward—even if that means throwing the plan out.
You might casually set up an outing and watch reality rewrite it for you:
“Pedicures tomorrow morning?”
Tonight’s answer: “Absolutely.”
The next morning: “Are you ready to leave for pedicures soon?”
Reply: “I would have been if you told me we were planning to leave. I’m not dressed or ready to go, and I don’t really want to go anywhere this morning.”
Of course.
We move through the confusion as if it isn’t there.
My reply: no fight, no debate, just a change in plans. The win isn’t getting the pedicure. The win is letting the day shift without turning it into a battle.
And yes, it is very tempting to throw your own tantrum at the situation. Your inner monologue might be, For fuck’s sake, we’ve had this conversation a billion times. Saying that out loud, in or out of text, does one thing: keeps the chaos going. Naming your irritation to yourself and choosing a quieter response won’t make you a saint—but it will save you some emotional cleanup later.
Tiny Rituals That Anchor the Day
A “routine” can be as simple as:
Playing the same song while you open the blinds
Offering a warm washcloth for their hands
Serving coffee or tea in the same favorite mug
Or an afternoon reset:
Sitting by the same window around the same time
Looking at a familiar photo
Sharing a small snack
Driving through old neighborhoods and reminiscing
The goal isn’t perfection—it’s familiarity. Over time, these small, predictable cues can help your loved one feel safer and give you both a sense of, “Okay, we know how to do this part,” even when everything else feels unpredictable.
Consistency and routine should be built around what works for your loved one, not what’s convenient for visitors. #selfish #getintheirworld
Family conflict around routines and boundaries is incredibly common. Maybe a sibling insists, “Mom needs more stimulation,” or wants to drop by “whenever” because that’s when it works for them.
You can be kind and firm at the same time. Try:
“We’ve found quiet afternoons are best for her, so we keep visits to mornings.”
“For her peace of mind, we stick to a simple schedule.”
You don’t owe anyone a full explanation. It’s okay to set limits: “I appreciate your care, but this routine really helps us avoid meltdowns.” If needed, post a simple schedule or visiting guidelines somewhere visible as a gentle, not-at-all-subtle reminder.
If you’re the concerned relative, there are ways to help without making things harder. Instead of dropping by unannounced, ask if you can check in by phone or text. Offer to run errands, pick up groceries, or bring a meal on a specific day. Sit with your loved one for an afternoon so the main caregiver can leave the house like a free-range human. Help with laundry or dishes without turning it into a performance.
Sometimes, just listening without judgment—or taking over one routine task—can be the biggest relief. Sharing the load in practical ways helps everyone and shows you see both the person with memory loss and the person quietly holding everything together.
Boundaries, and sticking to them, protect you and your loved one.
Where to Start When You’re Not Sure
Think back to your childhood: your parents’ tone, their advice, their rules, their moods. Now flip it. Get into their world and look for a place where this role reversal can work, even though it started long before either of you was ready.
Ready, set, go. Catch up.
Today might be the best day you’ll have for a while. Use it to make the days after it a little more manageable and livable—for both of you.
I’m not talking to the people watching from the outside. They have their own homework if they want to understand 24/7 memory care.
If you are the outsider, your good intentions matter. The most helpful thing you can do is listen to the person who’s there every day and ask what is actually needed right now.
That shows respect for their experience, makes it easier to work together, and supports both your loved one and the main caregiver. They know more than you do in this arena. When you argue from the sidelines, you slow things down and sometimes make things worse, even if you mean well.
Look for things that already go a tiny bit more smoothly:
A time of day when they’re usually calmer. For us, it’s before 3 p.m. After that, we hit the “witching hour.” Sundowning is real—when the light fades, emotions and confusion spike, and everything feels harsher.
A lighting change that softens the room.
A simple task they can still help with, like folding towels or rinsing dishes.
Watching Gunsmoke on repeat because the lead is cute and it feels like the 1950s again. (If it’s music, maybe it’s ABBA or The Mamas & the Papas, circa 1970s.)
Turn one of these into a loose routine by repeating it at a similar time each day.
Low‑pressure routine ideas:
Watering a plant together
Paging through a favorite photo album
Sharing a morning cup of tea
Feeding the birds outside
Listening to the same song as you tidy up
Watching the sunrise or sunset from the same spot
Brushing a pet, checking the mail, or putting on hand lotion
Repeated often enough, even these tiny acts can become comforting—and that’s a win.
What’s Next
In Part 2 of this Memory Care Survival Guide, we’ll talk about what to do when routines stop working, how to simplify daily tasks so you’re carrying less in your head, and small ways to protect your energy without feeling like you’ve failed.
If this felt a little too real, share it with another caregiver who needs to feel less alone today—and subscribe to Dazey’s Diary so you don’t miss Part 2.
