‘With each new experience, George became brighter’

When an Alzheimer’s diagnosis left her husband’s parents struggling to adjust, Jane Wallis suggested they all take a trip to Provence – with uplifting results

Publicly reducing my mother-inlaw to tears on the first day of a family holiday in the South of France was not, on the face of it, the best start to the week. My father-in-law frowned as she sobbed on his shoulder. Concerned glances from passers-by soon turned to smiles though as my mother-in-law, Ivy, laughed through her tears. What might have been mistaken for a moment of familial strife, or a powerful response to the glorious Provençal countryside, was instead a release of emotion at a travel wish fulfilled after my father-in-law, George, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, the degenerative brain disease, in late 2016 at the age of 79.

On Boxing Day of that year, George, not usually one for big displays of emotion, had sobbed in Ivy’s arms as a result of the recent Alzheimer’s diagnosis. He clung to Ivy who, like many before her, was still adjusting to her new life as carer. She wiped away her own tears as she tried to comfort George, while my husband, Edward, stared red-eyed at the floor.

Keen travellers throughout their married life, what George and Ivy needed – now more than ever – was a holiday. Yet I knew Ivy felt overwhelmed at the thought of them taking a trip abroad together without additional help. George, who grappled daily through a fog of confusion, had in recent years become uncharacteristically angry and petulant. He could also no longer bear to be parted from

Ivy – even for short periods – and had taken to following her around.

Desperately wanting to spread some Christmas cheer, I announced that the four of us would travel to the South of France, an area they all knew and loved, the following summer. In response, three pairs of watery eyes lit up brighter than the tree in the corner of the room.

Fast-forward to a hilltop near Châteauneuf-duPape and the sight of George and Ivy delighting in the view had instantly made the trip worthwhile. But I already knew to expect considerable challenges.

Memory is a unique and treasured essence that is gradually obliterated in those with Alzheimer’s, the most common form of what is more widely termed dementia. Currently, 850,000 people in the UK are living with dementia. It was recently revealed that Dame Barbara Windsor had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2014 but had struggled to accept the news. George, 18 months after his diagnosis, still gets angry at any mention of the A-word or if he feels he is being given special treatment. It’s a tricky landscape to navigate, as his failure to grasp situations often leaves him discombobulated and suspicious.

Holidays can be beneficial for people with Alzheimer’s as they offer new experiences and a break from routine. However, a change of scene can also be confusing.

Our trip nearly hit the buffers after my husband arrived at a hotel near St Pancras International, where his parents had stayed the previous night, to find Ivy in a fluster and George, who was still getting dressed, in an argumentative mood after initially refusing to get out of bed. George, a former lecturer, would previously have been up with the lark, busily getting on with the day. With gentle coaxing, Edward defused the situation and got both of them to the train on time.

The direct six-hour journey to Avignon lulled George. After collecting our hire car, we headed to a house in a nearby village, which we had booked independently, to minimise transfer times. The house would also provide communal living while giving Ivy respite from George’s repetitive and occasionally difficult behaviour.

We arrived to find steep steps to the front door and, at the rear of the property, a vertiginous terraced garden. Edward sheepishly confessed that his main consideration, aside from the number of bedrooms, had been a ping-pong table in the garden. George had played table tennis for many years, teaching his son to play as a boy, and it was still something he loved. Edward, an indulged only son, was instantly forgiven (though not immediately by me).

Ivy is prone to taking tumbles on steps and uneven surfaces. Over the coming days, I kept a watchful eye as she shuffled up and down the terraces admiring the many flowers, while George and Edward played table tennis. George, who couldn’t remember his way around the our part to ensure the trip went smoothly and, despite our causing the only argument of the week over where to have lunch in Avignon, the trip passed without incident.

At every opportunity, we ensured Ivy had time to herself, to read or do a crossword, while we occupied George. Ivy believes the combination of new experiences and additional support had a calming effect on them both, which helped her cope better with George. The four of us now plan to travel to Mallorca, another favourite destination, later this year. Eight months on, and despite a slight worsening of symptoms, George, so Ivy tells me, still remembers snapshots of the week.

On our final night, the four of us took a stroll after dinner at a restaurant in a nearby village. George stopped regularly to examine car number plates, but this childish reminder of his changing personality threatened to upset Ivy. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I pressed play on my phone and the mellifluous voice of Anni-Frid, the brunette from ABBA, filled the warm night air as the words to Our Last Summer took on a new poignancy.

The disapproving slam of a window shutter from above was met with laughter from George as he linked arms with Ivy to sway in time to the beat. I silently gave thanks for the music as they moved as one down the lamplit street. Precious memories that remain.