A Day in the Life of a Companion

Claire
Nov 10
4 min read

I am rather a muddle of a person: I’m not a fan of routine, but I do like a bit of structure to my day. And I like people, but I find big groups of people exhausting.

I think this is why the companion role appealed to me.

I’ve tried all sorts of jobs over the last thirty years, from hotel work to exam invigilation, museum attendant to house removals. The only constant in my life has been writing. I’ve got drawers full of novels, short stories, stage and screenplays, poems, essays… Along the way I’ve had a few things published, but most of my work ends up unseen. Still, I’ve no regrets – writing has got me through life’s ups and downs over the years. And it got me into running writing groups, particularly with people with dementia, and that has been one of the great joys of my life.

Because I’m always trying to find ways to write but never managing to make any money from it, I’ve always got other work on the go. This means that every day is a bit different – but I like that. I might be writing in a café for the morning, silently patrolling the aisles up at the University of Kent during an exam, meeting with a group of people with dementia to take photos and create poems in a community centre or gallery, or I may even go to a morning show at a local cinema, which is definitely my Happy Place.

One thing’s for sure: my day will start with Stevie, a little calico cat, jumping up onto the bed and having a snooze… on me. Stevie came to us through a nurse at the care home where Donald* lives, and she’s been a very entertaining and dear new member of our household – indeed, we gained a little companion of our own!

My companion role with Thrive means that I go each afternoon to visit Donald for two hours in his nursing home near Canterbury.

Donald is 102 years old and chair-bound but with a lively mind and a keen interest in life, art and philosophy. I’ve spent this year getting to know him, hearing stories of growing up in 1920s and ’30s London, being called up for service in World War II, and settling down into marriage and work as an artist.

Because Donald isn’t keen to leave the security of the home now, I try to take the outside world in. Lately I’ve been collecting autumn leaves, conkers and acorns. All year round I’ve taken cuttings from my garden, blackberries gathered from hedgerows, pinecones, pebbles and shells – things for Donald to enjoy handling and sometimes drawing. Every object provokes a memory, and I love to hear his associations and recollections. Often when I’m out and about, I’ll see something and think, Donald will love that! My car boot looks like Aladdin’s cave these days.

Donald is very deaf, so I write all my questions to him on notepads – I’ve got a great pile of pads now, full of my side of our conversations. Sometimes I’ll set up a little cinema in the nursing home, with a projector borrowed from my neighbour, and a bedsheet pegged up on string for a screen. We watch walks on YouTube, which are brilliant. Donald adores London, and we’ve gone on virtual walks all over it, which gives him so much joy. We’ve walked through Paris, too, and Vienna, where Donald ended his service in the war. I try to pair snacks with our walks – good coffee, croissants, dark chocolate – to give Donald a more immersive experience.

Sometimes I find art exhibitions to play through the projector, and Donald gets so much from these, losing himself fully in the colours and scenes that he has loved all his life. His appreciation of art is infectious – he’s got me drawing and painting this year because of his enthusiasm, which I’m really enjoying.

But for all the technology, what Donald really likes to do is have a good chat. Because of his deafness, Donald misses out on casual conversation. He spends a lot of time in his own head, thinking, and I think a companion for him means sharing all that thought and working it through. He loves going over scenes from his life and puzzling them out from different angles, reassessing moments and people in the light of all his years of experience - and asking what I think about them, too.

We’ve laughed and cried together, but whatever the day brings, it is good to feel that each visit is time well spent. The nursing home tell me that Donald has had a new lease of life since having the companion relationship, and I know he has brought a whole new dimension to my life, too. What a privilege to spend time with someone born in 1923! He has shared stories with me that have given me first hand insights into events from history books, and his warmth and humour have enriched my days. He regularly encourages me in my own endeavours, urging me to finish the writing project I’ve been working on for the last three years.

I asked him once what advice he would give to anyone hoping to live a long life, and he said, ‘If I’m anything to go by, my advice would be: never exercise!’

No two days are the same – and that suits me. I like the structure, without the routine. And I really like Donald. After all these hours of conversation and activity, I feel very lucky to be able to call Donald a friend. Today, I’m going to try something completely different, and see what he makes of funny cat videos from YouTube – something that will be entirely new to him. I’m taking in some Bakewell tarts, which he loves, and I can’t wait to hear him chuckling and hear his thoughts on this very 21^st century phenomenon.

By Liz Jennings

*Name has been changed for privacy.