SHE PLUNGED her hands into the water, the towering suds transporting her to the old ladder-back chair pulled up to the kitchen sink at her mama’s side. One dish at a time, in no hurry, she washed them, turning them this way and that before carefully dipping them into the waiting clear, clean water. She was careful not to drop Mama’s favorite cup, and she washed the Bundt pan three times, inspecting every ridge and hollow for hidden crumbs, just as she’d been taught. The dinner plates and silverware sparkled from their Jenga-like stacks in the drainer as she added the last utensil. She knew Mama would brag on her when she came back to inspect her work.

It could have been memories she was inspecting, but at her age, dementia blurred the lines between memory and reality. In her current home, Destiny House, a caregiver, not Mama, stands behind her, supporting her as she works at the sink from her wheelchair. Like a favorite dish towel, an encouraging word, a loving pat on the shoulder, or a gentle smile is always within reach.

Frances Clark, founder of Destiny House, understands.

“When they come in, they are in the family. They’re not just somebody’s loved one who came into the house. We’re taking care of them as if it was our own. We try to make sure that they don’t forget they’re still part of society and they’re still alive. I believe if a patient has not left this earth yet, they still have a purpose. We don’t want them to feel like they have lost their life because they’re sitting in a nursing home. We want it to still feel like their home, and that’s the reason why this home was made into a house and not a nursing home,” Clark passionately explained.

Clark’s commitment to family didn’t begin when she opened Destiny House in Lynchburg eight years ago. And her experience with memory care doesn’t come from walking through dementia with her own mother. When Clark was 27, she lost her mother to breast cancer. She and her five sisters cared for their mother while working full-time jobs. Outside caregivers were hard to find. 

And then, breast cancer came for more of her family — one sister, then a second one. When her first sister passed away at 36, she left behind 14- and 15-year-old daughters and 6-year-old twin girls. Although they lived with their father immediately after their mother’s death, one Thanksgiving, they came to visit and never left. Clark was single, worked full time, and enjoyed traveling. Motherhood was not on her radar, yet here she was. 

Five years later, the disease took another one of her sisters, who left behind children ages 10, 12, and 15. Clark also took them in as her own. Her house could no longer hold them all, so she purchased a larger home, which soon filled with the children’s teenage friends who found refuge there.

Clark said, “God made it where I had to raise them. At first, I was angry, but then I had to realize — wait a minute — you got a purpose, and I need to know what this purpose is. I would not change it today for anything in the world.”

The children are all grown, and family fills her home once again. Destiny House offers in-patient care and services to patients in their homes. From skilled care to hospice care, Clark and her staff treat each person as family.

“We do 24-hour care. We have med techs, certified nursing assistants, and personal care attendants. We have nurses, physician care, and physical therapists come in,” she explained. 

The care goes beyond meeting medical needs. Clark balances care mind, body, and soul.

“We do activities, games, and exercise. We take them to get ice cream and to the mall if they’re able to get in the car and able to walk. We try to make sure that they have an enjoyable time,” Clark said. “We know a lot of them feel like they have no life in them. They will decline very quickly, and so that’s the reason why we have to keep them going, help them realize that they’re still alive and they have purpose. If they’re still breathing, they have life to give to others. Some of them come with wisdom. Some of them come with such love and show you such patience. Then, some clients are challenging. God allowed them to teach us to have more patience with the challenging times.”

Clark is often the bridge between a patient and their family, between this world and the next. Dementia and Alzheimer’s lead patients back to their childhood while the family desperately tries to hold them in the present. 

“The family member remembers that Mom takes care of them, but Mama is now at a place where she remembers her mama taking care of her. We go back to where we were born. Our mind is going back to that childhood — innocent — place, and this is the hard thing. Just remember, if she does not remember yesterday, it doesn’t change who she is to you; she’s still your mama. 

“Remember the memory, but don’t push them into the future, where they can’t go. Let them stay in their past and enjoy the past. Play that role with them, take what you remember of that mom and dad, and hold on to that because that will never leave you. That will always be with you until you go to the time where you are at a dimension when you forget. It’s a circle of life.”

And when a patient’s time on earth is nearing its end, Clark is there, too.

She shared, “I always tell the family I’m a Christian. I’m born again. I pray them through. I sing them through.”

At Destiny House, memories blend with present care, creating a nurturing space where life’s purpose endures, even as time fades away. GN