In 1996, my parents came from Slovenia to live with me because they could no longer live on their own. It was decided that I would look after them in their old age.
Father had severe diabetes and a disability due to a car accident way back, and mother had severe depression, which became dementia later on.
In older people who are mentally and physically unwell, the food they eat plays an incredibly important role in their lives. Although I was born in Slovenia, I’ve lived in many countries and used to eat lots of different foods – but not Slovenian. So I had to learn how to cook traditional Slovenian foods for my parents pretty quickly.
People with dementia may forget names of food and relatives, but they don’t stop loving them.
After father passed away, I looked after mother at my home. A few years later, at age 69, she was diagnosed with dementia. We continued to live together for around seven years while she had dementia.
It was only when I became too ill to look after her that she entered into a residential aged care facility where she stayed for about three years.
But even during that time, she had her main meal with me at home because I would bring her home to eat with me every day. If I had to go away for some reason, I would prepare and freeze all her favourite meals and the residential aged care facility would just warm them up for her. She could never get used to Australian meals because she just didn’t know it.
People with dementia may forget names of food and relatives, but they don’t stop loving them. My mother loved cauliflower, fried chicken thighs, chocolate and cream cakes. The more we try to give people living with dementia the food they like, the more we enable them to live a good life.
As a cultural social support worker [now], I’ve noticed that all of my clients with dementia – whether they are Italian, Greek, Spanish or French – need to eat the food they recognise. Because no matter how bad their dementia is, they don’t ever forget the taste, smell and look of the food they’ve eaten all of their lives.
Danijela Hlis's mother Marija - who passed away around four years ago - pictured with her favourite doll, Angelica. (Photo: supplied) Source: Supplied
But it’s the same thing for everyone with dementia. If you have an Australian-born person with dementia [who grew up with Anglo-Saxon food] and you serve them curries, satays, pizzas and cevapi, they will probably not eat it or become quite angry because they won’t recognise the food or taste of the meal. They won’t know what’s happening.
The thing to remember is that for every human being – whether they are Australian-born or from another country – food is largely responsible for our moods. So if I have dementia and don’t have enough food or the right food, I can become agitated, miserable and depressed.
Because no matter how bad their dementia is, they don’t ever forget the taste, smell and look of the food they’ve eaten all of their lives.
Look at it this way – when I was a carer for my mother and we lived at home together, I was also trying to help my aunty who had dementia and lived in a residential aged care facility in France. When I visited her, she used to push the food she didn’t like or recognise away. Sometimes she threw the food at the staff.
She had basic foods she wanted to eat, smell and taste but she wasn’t getting them. Her aggressive ways demonstrated that her food needs were not being met.
If an older person has dementia, they can still recognise what they eat. And for some people, if they are given a whole heap of mashed food they don’t like, it might enrage them.
Danijela Hlis's mother, Marija celebrating her 80th birthday. (Supplied) Source: Supplied
As my mum once said to me when she had dementia and was served mashed carrots: ‘“Ä mislijo da sem dojencek brez zob?” (“Do they think I am a baby with no teeth?”)
When she cut up a meat pie and the filling came out, she said: “Oh moj Bog kaj pa je to?” (“Oh my God, what is this?’)’
And when I served my mum her favourite meal, she said: “Bogec me ima rad ker mi je dal tebe, ti znas kuhat.” (God loves me because he gave me you. You know how to cook well.”)
Although someone has dementia, deep down in their brain, their love for you never dies. And their love for the food they’ve loved all their life never dies either.
I understand that the staff at residential aged care facilities are busy with many people to care for. But for all of [the family members of people living in aged care], if you can spare a couple of hours here and there, cook the meals for your loved ones or bring them home for a meal, it would make a big difference. It’s just amazing to see the light that comes into the eyes and their smile when you serve them a meal they like.
Food has been part of our worldwide culture for as long as we have existed. To sit down around a table, have conversation with family or friends, have laughter and good food has always been extremely important. Nothing changes in that respect just because a person has dementia.
Although someone has dementia, deep down in their brain, their love for you never dies. And their love for the food they’ve loved all their life never dies either.
Danijela Hlis is a advocate who has been involved in more than 50 dementia-related research projects over the past nine years and worked as a bicultural social support worker.
If this story has raised an issue for you, you can access support by contacting . Or call the Monday to Friday, 9am-5pm on 1800 100 500.
