Readers offer great alternatives to ‘How is your wife doing?’

Hats off to the readers of this blog! You are a thoughtful, engaged, and responsive group! Reactions to last week’s post make my point.

When I wrote that “How’s your wife doing?” may not be the most helpful question to ask a caregiver, I evidently touched a nerve.  More than one reader responded, “Good point. So what SHOULD we ask?”

So what SHOULD we ask?

And when I sent a follow-up email and Facebook post asking for answers to THAT question, I received long lists of suggestions. Thanks so much to everyone who wrote. You’ll see your thinking in the lists below. (By the way, if you’re not getting the Unchosen Journey emails, that likely means you haven’t subscribed to the blog. You could do that today!)

Speak up

The possibilities fall into several categories, but before I go there, I want to say this: “Asking ANYthing is better than saying nothing.” I certainly don’t want Evelyn’s illness or my problems to be the center of every conversation; we’re trying to live a life as “normal” as possible. But when friends and acquaintances never acknowledge the realities I know they know, it can be alienating.

Asking anything is better than saying nothing.

Don’t avoid the subject for fear of offending. More than one responder this week said, “I know they care, even when they ask a question that’s hurtful to me or awkward to answer.” We need to hear that you notice and you care.

Start here

And there are many ways to express your concern.

The granddaddy of them all is simply to ask, “How are you doing?” Or this variation: “How are you feeling about {insert name of patient}’s situation?” The caregiver may or may not go into much detail, especially if time is short or the conversation is in passing. He doesn’t want to bore you with sad details in the church hallway or the grocery store aisle. She’ll feel freer to be more specific at lunch or on a phone call. But nothing says “I care” more than “How are you doing?”

Closely related is “How can I pray for you this week?” This leaves the caregiver freedom to go into as much detail as she chooses. It communicates real concern more than polite interest. It connects the questioner with the caregiver. And it helps.

After that, possibilities fall into a couple of categories.

Tell, don’t ask

Not everything needs to be a question. Words of encouragement always help. Possibilities:

• “I’m so sorry you and Evelyn are going through this.”

• “I see how you’re taking care of her, and I’m so grateful for your example.”

• “You’re doing a great job.”

• “I’m praying for you.”

Be specific

And at least now and then, a specific offer of help is hard to turn down.

• “We can bring you dinner Tuesday or Thursday next week. Which night works better?”

• “I have two hours Saturday morning. Can you find something for me to do around the house or in your yard?”

• “I’m running errands Wednesday. Can I pick up something for you while I’m out?”

• “I’d like to come visit with Evelyn. Is there a day next week you’d like a break to go do something on your own?” (In my case, so far, Evelyn is fine to be here by herself. I get out often. But a couple of friends have visited with her while I went to an extended performance or an evening meeting, and this was good.)

A specific offer is hard to turn down.

Offers like this can be so much more helpful than, “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” No one likes to feel needy. Most of us are slow to ask for help. Frankly, I feel a little self-conscious even writing all of this here. I’m not walking around with an attitude of “I’m needy. Please notice.” My knee-jerk response is, “Really. We’re fine,” because we are. (Except when we’re not.)

Don’t feel guilty

And not everyone with honest concern has the bandwidth to make a time commitment. Life was full for you before you heard your friend’s husband has Alzheimer’s. It’s OK.

Your unselfish expressions of concern are often boost enough. “Unselfish” is the key here. Even if you have a morbid curiosity about how much the patient may have degenerated (Confession: I realize I’ve felt this way about others I’ve known), try to admit this to yourself and squelch it. Look the caregiver in the eye and say something to him or her about him or her.

Every caregiver you know needs that kind of encouragement and concern.


Photos by Karolina Grabowska at Pexels and Cristina Gottardi at Unsplash.




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