Dignity care is the practice of ensuring a loved one maintains a sense of self and self-respect. As she recounted in a recent AARP article, Lois Seed has guided every caregiving decision with one principle since her husband Daniel Gibbs, a neurologist, received his Alzheimer’s diagnosis in 2015: helping him maintain his sense of self. She encouraged him to retire before errors could compromise his patients, giving him agency over an impossible transition. But she also championed his next chapter: advocating publicly, educating others, and writing a book. The work gave Gibbs structure, purpose, and connection. Seed believes this has slowed his decline.

At home, her approach is quietly supportive. She leaves written reminders on the kitchen table rather than correcting him aloud. She supplies missing words mid-conversation without making a show of it. “Dan can still have meaningful conversations,” Seed explained to AARP. “When we’re doing interviews or events, I might step in to clarify a question that’s too complicated or help him find the right word, but I always try to do it in a way that doesn’t make him feel corrected.”

The Architecture of Daily Dignity

Nancy Kriseman spent 17 years caring for her mother with Alzheimer’s. Now a licensed clinical social worker and author, she distills dignity care into a deceptively simple principle: know the person, honor what matters to them, and adapt as abilities change.

“Many caregivers and facilities assume that people with dementia don’t really know what’s going on, leading them to treat residents like children,” Kriseman told AARP. She recalls visiting her mother at mealtime to find staff had replaced her favorite mashed potatoes with tater tots—ostensibly more “dignified” because they were less messy. “She would have loved to eat those mashed potatoes, even with her fingers,” Kriseman says. “That would have brought her joy, and that’s what true dignity looks like.”

For Susan George, dignity means including her husband Jack in every decision about his care since his FTD diagnosis in 2020. Even small choices matter—what to wear, whether to sit inside or on the porch. “He needs to have input,” she said. “It’s his life, not mine.” Those choices affirm that Jack remains the author of his story, not merely its main character.

The Gestures That Protect Identity

Susanne White learned not to correct her mother in public or private. “They might not grasp every word, but they know when they’re being scolded,” White told AARP. Arguing about accuracy chips away at confidence without serving any useful purpose.

She also honored the rituals tied to her mother’s identity—doing her hair, painting her nails, playing her favorite blues records. These weren’t vanity projects; they served as affirmations of who she had always been.

Clinical educator Michele Mongillo emphasizes that even language choices shape how people feel about themselves. Referring to incontinence products as “diapers” infantilizes adults, she told AARP. Terms like “adult briefs” or “protective underwear” acknowledge adulthood and preserve self-worth.

Further reading:

• Read the original AARP article
• AFTD articles:
  • Understanding and Responding to FTD Behaviors
  • Tips & Advice: Incontinence – A Troubling Symptom