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Two Friends Reunite Unexpectedly in Assisted Living

Reconnecting with a good friend can make the difference between flourishing and declining

By Carol Morgan Milberger
Two older women sitting next to each other. Next Avenue
The author's mother and her friend Liz  |  Credit: Courtesy of Carol Milberger

I instantly recognized her distinctive voice when I heard her talking in the hallway of the large retirement community. I didn't immediately recognize the woman ─ it had been 45 years since I'd moved away ─ but knew that voice.  

"I don't know who you think that woman was, but it isn't Liz Anderson!"

"Liz Anderson?" I asked tentatively (not her real name). 

"Yes," she smiled broadly. I was thrilled that she remembered me when I introduced myself using my maiden name. Liz was surprised to hear that Mom had recently moved into assisted living just two buildings away.  Liz said she'd gladly wait while I brought Mom back to say "hi." 

Mom said she thought she remembered Liz and agreed to a short visit. At ninety-five, Mom's memory fluctuated from good to poor throughout the day. I could tell Mom struggled to remember her long-time friend while they chatted, but wasn't prepared for her comment as I pushed her wheelchair back to her room. 

"I don't know who you think that woman was, but it isn't Liz Anderson!" Mom said with a frown. She shook her head and added softly, "I remember her name, but that isn't her." 

Really Remembering

I hoped reconnecting with a dear friend would lift Mom's spirits before I flew home the following day. The last six months had been stressful after a hospital stay resulted in a rushed move to assisted living. Mom tried to put on a brave face but wasn't adjusting to the new setting, people or schedule. Her anxiety skyrocketed overnight. She didn't want to attend exercise classes or even some meals. 

On my next trip a few months later, I was excited but apprehensive when Mom agreed to meet Liz again. Their first visit went well ─ Mom still didn't really connect, but had a nice time. Halfway through their second lunch, Mom finally remembered, really remembered, her friend. Mom asked about Liz's children, pets and husband. She even asked about the giant Golden Retriever our family kept for two years while Liz's family lived overseas. Over the next few days, the women shared slipper-purchasing tips, compared nail colors and excitedly promised to meet again soon.  

As I prepared to leave for the airport, Mom thanked me for a wonderful visit, and, for the first time in a very long time, smiled broadly as we said goodbye. Mom was happy to have a dear friend nearby.  

The strong positive relationship between social connection and happiness is well-documented, as are the negative health impacts of social isolation, which include heart disease, Type II diabetes, depression, anxiety, dementia and more. Reconnecting with a good friend can make the difference between flourishing and declining. I hope my mom and Liz continue to meet between my visits. 

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What You Can Do

Here are tips to help foster a reunion for someone you care about. 

Gauge interest and address concerns: Luckily Mom wanted to visit her friend, so the only hurdles were assuring her that I knew the way, there were bathrooms in most hallways, and we'd leave as soon as Mom asked. I don't take Mom anywhere she doesn't want to go, which is why we don't attend chair exercises together. (I still ask once during every visit, but not again after she declines.)  

Keep plans flexible: Illness, memory and energy levels vary. When Liz wasn't home at the scheduled time, we walked a bit further down her hallway, then decided to try again later. Mom felt so lousy on the morning of Liz's visit that I thought we'd have to cancel, but she rallied after her friend arrived. Everyone has bad days, so those need to be expected. I was so excited about their scheduled meeting that I had trouble sleeping the night before. The two reconnecting friends could have also been too excited to sleep, which could have lessened their ability to meet the next day. 

Schedule short visits at first: Avoid scheduling long visits initially since you never know when energy or attention may fade. Nothing dulls a reunion like a friend nodding off or asking to go home when the conversation lags. Short, happy, energy-filled visits are more likely to be remembered fondly and lead to repeats. Our first visit was a "stop by to say 'hi.'" When that visit went well, we scheduled a longer one, then scheduled lunch. 

Select fun places: Spark conversations without relying heavily on memory by selecting interesting, lively places to meet like a courtyard, coffee shop or lobby. If possible, meet or walk outside, since research shows that spending time in nature improves mental health

Choose conversation topics to spark memories, then wait for them to engage: Mention places, people, or activities they have in common to prompt shared memories, then wait while they process those memories. I only spoke up when a topic had run its course or to provide an internet photo to trigger memories. Sometimes Mom took a few extra seconds to formulate the question she wanted to ask, but those questions were meaningful to her and Liz. 

Enlist others for future meetings:  Getting together often takes effort and assistance, as in our case where both women rely on wheelchairs. While Liz can cover the distance in her motorized chair, the transition between buildings is quite confusing so she may need directions from staff on the way. Mom needs more than directions, she needs someone to push her wheelchair. I asked my three local brothers to try to get the women together, and texted Liz's daughter as well.  

Be patient: Try again even if the first few visits don't work as hoped. None of this would have happened if I'd given up after Mom insisted she didn't know "that woman." After several interactions, Mom's memories of her friend came back. As long as the parties are willing to meet, fix what didn't work well, and try again. 

Carol Morgan Milberger
Carol Morgan Milberger, Ph.D., is a retired psychologist whose debut memoir, "MOLDed: A Memoir of Loss & Resilience," chronicles her surreal two-year odyssey of loss, anxiety and absurdity in a desperate effort to protect her family’s health while battling the unseen enemy of toxic mold. Carol's essays have appeared in The New York Times, Wired, Business Insider and elsewhere. More information is available on her website. Read More
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