Supporting People as the Age

Wayne is preparing for a strike!

I’ve worked in direct support for over a decade, but for the past five years, I’ve been supporting Wayne one-on-one as a residential assistant at Penn-Mar Human Services. Wayne recently turned 80. I’ve seen firsthand how aging has impacted his life, little by little.

Wayne has been part of Penn-Mar’s community for a long time—he's been with our day services since the late 1980s. He moved into a Penn-Mar residence in the early 2000s. I began working with him directly in 2020. At that time, he was still walking short distances, socializing constantly, and always up for going out. These days, things look a bit different.

Slowing Down, Gently

Wayne is incredibly laid back. He doesn’t get upset when things become harder, even though they clearly have. Aging has slowed him down physically. His hearing and vision have diminished, and his Alzheimer’s—diagnosed years ago—has progressed slowly. He sometimes calls me by different names. I just gently remind him, “Nope, it’s Tom.” He laughs, and says, “You know I can’t help it.” His hands don’t work quite the way they used to, affecting his fine motor skills. Now he needs help walking. He uses a wheelchair when we go out. He has railings and gait belts at home for safety.

Sometimes, I find myself getting frustrated, not with Wayne, but with how different things are now. That’s when I pause, reflect, and remind myself he’s doing best he can, and I owe him the same.

He also gets tired much more easily and sleeps a lot. There are days when we simply can’t leave the house because breakfast and bathing take longer. I’ve learned to pace things around his energy and mobility. Even activities he used to love, like puzzles, need to be adjusted. I find simpler designs with easier pieces.

Communicating Through Music and Moments

Despite these changes, Wayne still has that same warmth. He loves “hillbilly music”—his words, not mine—and especially Buck Owens. We often listen to country songs. Together we’ll sing “Your Cheatin’ Heart” by Hank Williams and “In the Jailhouse Now” by the Soggy Bottom Boys. Hearing Wayne sing makes my day brighter; it’s a special connection for the two of us.

I encourage him to walk around the house if he has energy. I encourage him to keep his mind active through games, puzzles, and even watching documentaries, which light up his face. He may not socialize like he used to, but he still enjoys people and perks up when we’re out and about.

On good days, I take him to Walmart, for a trail walk, or to Rita’s Ice Custard for chocolate custard. He might fall asleep halfway through a movie, but that’s OK. I’m just happy to help create moments of joy, even small ones.

Learning to Support Aging with Dignity

Working with Wayne as he ages has changed how I think about support. I’ve had to adjust my pace, expectations, and approach. I’ve learned to be more patient and intentional. Sometimes, I find myself getting frustrated, not with Wayne, but with how different things are now. That’s when I pause, reflect, and remind myself he’s doing best he can, and I owe him the same.

I want to help him make more memories, like going to the zoo, enjoying a festival, or just listening to more of his favorite music. I want him to feel like life is still his to live.

Wayne playing Sort and Snap with Tom

I’ve leaned into professional development to learn more about supporting people as they age. I’m part of Penn-Mar’s NADSP Career Ladders program. I just completed DSP Level 3. I have used tools like Open Future Learning to understand how aging and dementia affect people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. One training session that really stuck with me was Dementia Live, where I experienced what it’s like to navigate noise, vision loss, motor impairment, and confusion. It gave me real empathy for what Wayne might be going through when he seems distracted or slow to respond.

A Team Effort

While I’m his main support most of the day, supporting Wayne is definitely a team effort. Wayne entered hospice earlier this year due to aspiration issues. A team of us (his primary care doctor, surrogate decision maker who knows Wayne’s wishes, program managers, and our residential team) worked together to ensure his wishes were honored and he stayed comfortable. Wayne didn’t want a feeding tube, and we respect that. With honey-thickened liquids and a pureed diet, he’s been stable. Thankfully, Wayne has been out of the hospital since spring.

Creating Meaningful Moments

My goal for Wayne is simple: I want him to be as happy and healthy as he can be, to feel respected, and to still have fun. I want to help him make more memories, like going to the zoo, enjoying a festival, or just listening to more of his favorite music. I want him to feel like life is still his to live.

This work isn’t always easy. Watching someone slowly decline is painful. It’s like watching a star dim. But it’s also a privilege. I’ve had the honor of knowing Wayne through this chapter of his life. He’s helped me grow in ways I didn’t expect, especially in compassion and patience. I keep asking myself: if I were in his shoes, would I want someone like me to support me? That question guides how I provide support every day I work with Wayne.

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