They Don’t Want to Do Anything Anymore—and I Don’t Know What to Do

The Moment It Began

It was the Fourth of July. The neighbors were setting up for a barbecue. Flags waved. Kids ran by with sparklers. You turned to your loved one and said,

“Do you want to go outside? Just for a minute?”

They looked at the door…Then shook their head. Or said nothing. Or stared at the floor.

You’d planned something simple—maybe a popsicle, some music, a chair in the sun. You weren’t just inviting them outside. You were inviting them back into a moment you hoped to share.

And it felt like they were saying no. To you.

Seeing It Differently

What feels like rejection is often just the nervous system doing its best to survive. Too much sound, too much pressure, too many expectations—even the joy of a holiday can overwhelm.

Dementia changes how someone connects—not always whether they want to.

When the world is celebrating, and your loved one turns inward, it doesn’t mean they’ve stopped caring. It may mean they need you to adjust the invitation. To say:

“We don’t have to do the whole thing. I’ll just sit here with you.”

🧭 Try This: Gentle Celebration in Stillness

Reframe “engagement” for the day.

Skip the fireworks. Try soft red, white, and blue ribbons in their hands
Skip the party. Share a popsicle in silence, hand-in-hand
Skip the stories. Just sit beside them while a quiet patriotic tune plays
Light a small candle (battery or real) and call it your private celebration
Whisper “Happy 4th” even if they don’t reply—and smile anyway

You are still making memories. You are still present. And that’s what matters.

Caregiver Reflection

What was I hoping today would look like—and why?
What part of today can still be beautiful, even in the quiet?
Can I let go of the old version of celebration and still honor what this moment needs?

Write it down. Say it softly. Let it be enough.

💬 Words to Carry

This holiday doesn’t have to be loud to be meaningful. It doesn’t need flags or sparklers to count.

Connection today might look like shared stillness, softened sound, or a quiet “I’m here.”

You showed up. You brought presence . That’s what love looks like—on the Fourth of July, and every day.

“Connection is not measured in conversation. Sometimes it’s measured in breath shared quietly across a room.”—MME

🗓️ Coming Next:

“What to Do When the Day Starts Hard (and Keeps Going)” Next week, we’ll offer a gentle rhythm for those mornings when everything falls apart before breakfast—and how to find your footing when the ground feels shaky.