Cam Locks, Laughter, and Love
When we sold our Sisters home, the buyers loved our style so much they wanted to buy it furnished. At first, I thought, perfect less to move. While that was true on one end, it meant setting up an entirely new home on the other. A home that I didn’t have a “feeling” for having only been in the home for a total of 15 minutes. Because routine and familiarity are so important for Doug, I worked to get everything settled quickly.
That’s hard to do when much of our new furniture was ordered online and that meant one thing: furniture assembly. Ordering custom furniture takes week so even though I strive to get the house settled, it’s happening in stages. So, boxes arrive are unpacked and furniture assembled.
I never care to see another cam lock again. But one night, I invited Doug to help me put together a table. He kindly agreed. What I didn’t fully realize at the time was that this particular table had 68 cam locks. Yes, 68 of that one part. For each cam lock there is a cam lock screw.
We worked side by side with music playing in the background. I’d ask Doug for a cam lock. He’d pause, ask which one that was, and I’d point it out. He’d hand it to me. Thirty seconds later, I asked again, and he handed me my allen wrench ratchet tool. I said thank you, pointed again to the cam lock, and kept going.
We repeated this dance over and over, me asking, him handing me the wrong thing, me pointing, him smiling.Keep in mind there are 68 cam locks. Then, in the middle of our assembly rhythm, Doug suddenly asked if he could have a vehicle.
I gently asked, “What would you do with it?”
“Drive it up and down the road several times,” he replied.
I chuckled, listened, and let the moment pass, continuing to work on the table. Later, I asked again for a cam lock and you guessed it Doug handed me the allen wrench ratchet tool. I pointed out the cam lock and kept going. Shortly after that I was ready to tighten down the cam locks and needed the ratchet tool. By then, I was knew what to ask for, the cam lock and yes, he handed me the ratchet tool and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Doug laughed right along with me.
A few minutes later, still smiling, I teased him: “And this is why you don’t have a vehicle.”
Quick as ever, Doug replied, “One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.” And honestly, he was right. His short-term memory is slipping, and his sense of place has changed even though we live right next door to our old house, the neighborhood feels unfamiliar to him now. Still, in that moment, the details didn’t matter. What mattered was that we were together, building a table, and laughing until the weight of dementia lifted, even if just for a while.
This is the dance of being a care partner some days heavy, some days tender, and some days filled with unexpected laughter. And those laughs? They’re not just relief; they’re medicine for the soul.
