She's still my Mum

Vicki*, once a warm and lively presence in her community, was known for her quick wit and love of conversation. But when her husband passed away, something in her shifted. 

At first, her daughter Janine* thought it was grief,  the 
sadness, the quiet moments of forgetfulness. But then things grew more worrying.

“Mum started mixing up names, losing track of conversations, and sometimes forgetting where she was,” Janine recalls. “You could see it scared her. And that fear stayed with us, too.”

Eventually, Vicki was diagnosed with dementia (mate wareware). The news hit hard.

Once the anchor of her whānau, she became withdrawn, often too embarrassed to speak up or take part in things she used to love.

“There were days she’d cry, saying she didn’t want to be a burden. It was heartbreaking to watch her slowly disappear in pieces.” Janine shared. 

Caring for Vicki at home became overwhelming. Janine juggled parenting, work, and being a carer, all while carrying immense emotional weight. The diagnosis had changed everything.

Her children also found it hard to understand the changes in their beloved grandma and why she no longer remembered the stories they had shared. It brought sadness and confusion into their everyday lives.

There were nights Janine lay awake wondering how much more they could cope with. 

“I’d go from packing school lunches to helping Mum shower, and it all felt like too much. Watching her fade and trying to stay strong for my kids...I didn’t know how long I could keep going.”

With support from our social workers, Janine was able to explore options for help at home. They connected her with trained support staff who now visit the house, making Vicki’s care more manageable. Several days a week, Vicki also attends the Enliven Harakeke Club, which brings structure, companionship, and a renewed sense of purpose to her week.

Harakeke is a day programme designed specifically for people living with dementia. Small groups of people are picked up from their homes and share time together at a calm, welcoming space where each person is treated with mana and warmth.  

From the moment Vicki walks in, she is greeted with a smile, a familiar voice, and gentle encouragement. Activities are tailored to her needs and interests, whether it’s singing, crafts, or simply enjoying a quiet moment in the garden watching the birds.

“Vicki is a joy to have with us,” says Anne*, one of our Enliven support staff. “Even on the harder days, we see her strength. She’s still herself, her humour, her kindness, her spark, and that’s what we nurture.” “She lights up there. They see her for who she is, not just what she’s lost,” Janine shares. “She’s still my Mum, and it’s given us time to just be a family again.” 

Harakeke has been a steadying hand in a time of chaos. For Vicki, it’s a place where she feels like herself again. For her whānau, it’s been a lifesaver. Their days aren’t so full of worry now, instead, they’re finding little moments of calm, connection, and hope, and Vicki’s grandkids get to see their fun-loving grandma again.