During my wife Marilyn’s battle with a rare form of dementia, I endured a heart-wrenching period of soul-searching as her cognitive abilities declined. The holidays, especially Christmas, brought a mix of painful emotions as her caregiver. One incident from our first Christmas after her diagnosis remains vivid, marked by my own loss of composure.

That year, we replaced our usual grand, real tree with a modest four-foot artificial one. The change felt necessary—I was too overwhelmed by grief to manage a big production, and the smaller tree required no watering or cleanup. Still, it felt like a pale imitation of the holidays we once shared.

After setting up the tree, I untangled a string of working lights and asked Marilyn to drape them on the branches while I stepped away to answer the phone. When I returned, my heart sank. She stood motionless, holding the end of the lights, staring blankly at the tree. She had forgotten what to do. 

Frustration boiled over, and I snapped: “What’s wrong? Can’t you do it? Never mind, I’ll do it myself!”

In the past, the vibrant Marilyn would have met my outburst with a quick retort. Instead, she looked relieved, as if my taking over eased her confusion. That moment pierced me with sadness. Each new sign of her forgetting caught me off guard, stirring anger I couldn’t fully explain. Why did I keep expecting her to be her old self when I knew her decline was irreversible? Why did I cling to traditions she could no longer share?

In the decade since that Christmas—and since Marilyn’s passing—I’ve gained perspective on my reactions. My anger stemmed from a desperate wish to reclaim the woman she was before dementia took hold. I was powerless against the disease, and that helplessness often emerged as frustration.

If you’re a caregiver facing similar challenges, my best advice is to simplify the holidays. Put up a small tree, hang a few lights, exchange a handful of meaningful gifts. Invite only close friends you both cherish, and avoid noisy parties or unfamiliar crowds that could overwhelm your loved one. Even if they don’t show joy outwardly, a festive environment, familiar music and laughter can still spark moments of happiness.

Simplifying doesn’t mean abandoning tradition. Keeping a few rituals alive can bring comfort and normalcy to both of you. Doing nothing risks deepening feelings of loss and isolation. At the same time, be intentional about keeping plans manageable so the season doesn’t add to an already heavy caregiving load.

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