Supporting a Parent With Dementia When You Live Apart
Some conversations linger long after the recording ends.
This one stayed with me.
I recently sat down with Laura Smothers-Chu, founder of Joy in Dementia, for an episode of the Sacred Work in Progress podcast. The topic was dementia, which is already heavy terrain, but what struck me most was not just what Laura does, but how she holds it.
With steadiness. With compassion. With the kind of clarity that only comes from lived experience.
What It Means to Support a Parent With Dementia From Another Home
Laura supports adult children who are navigating a parent’s dementia while not living in the same home. It sounds simple when you say it out loud, but this role is rarely named, let alone supported. Most resources, conversations, and systems are built for the primary caregiver who lives with the person day in and day out. Very little speaks to the son or daughter who is nearby but not inside the household, or far away altogether, trying to help without fully knowing how.
That gap is where Laura’s work lives.
The Overlooked Experience of Long-Distance Dementia Caregivers
Laura’s father was diagnosed with dementia when she was twenty-eight. Even with a background in healthcare, she quickly realized that the existing resources did not reflect her experience as a daughter supporting from outside the home. They focused almost entirely on spouses and in-home caregivers. No one seemed to be speaking to the adult child who felt deeply involved, deeply concerned, and deeply helpless all at once.
Over time, Laura stopped waiting for someone else to address that gap. She began creating the kind of support she wished had existed for her, and eventually built her work around it.
What Laura calls “long-distance caregiving” is not only about geography. It can mean living in another state or another country, but it can just as easily mean living twenty minutes away and not being part of the daily rhythm of care. The defining feature is not mileage. It is the emotional position of being close, yet removed from the day-to-day realities.
This distinction matters, because the emotional experience is different.
Guilt, Grief, and Helplessness When You Don’t Live With a Parent With Dementia
Adult children in this role often carry a quiet mix of guilt, fear, grief, and uncertainty. They want to help. They do help. And yet they may constantly feel like it is not enough. They may see things the primary caregiver does not have the bandwidth to notice, while also feeling powerless to intervene directly.
Laura speaks to this experience with remarkable clarity, without minimizing the weight of what families are facing.
How Adult Children Can Support Dementia Care Without Living in the Home
One of the most grounding parts of our conversation was hearing Laura name the strengths that long-distance caregivers actually bring to the table.
Because they are not in constant survival mode, adult children living apart are often better positioned to step back and see patterns over time. They can help anticipate future needs, research options, and think through long-term planning that is incredibly difficult for a spouse who is already overwhelmed by daily care.
Why Planning Ahead Matters
This might look like researching elder law attorneys, financial advisors, or care options, helping parents update powers of attorney or wills, or simply holding the bigger picture when everything feels urgent and reactive.
Laura is very clear that this role is not about taking over or undermining the primary caregiver. In fact, much of her work centers on helping adult children support the caregiving spouse in a way that is collaborative, respectful, and grounded. The goal is not control. It is support.
Listening to Laura, it became obvious how much pressure families place on themselves simply because no one has ever articulated what this role can look like in a healthy, sustainable way.
Challenging the Fear-Based Narrative Around Dementia
Another reason Laura’s work feels so important is the way she challenges the dominant narrative around dementia itself.
So much of what we see framed publicly is rooted in fear, loss, and disappearance. The idea that the person is “no longer there” shows up everywhere, and while that fear is understandable, Laura’s lived experience tells a more nuanced story.
She does not deny the grief. She does not bypass the difficulty. But she does speak honestly about moments of connection, intimacy, and even joy that can still exist when families learn how to meet their loved one where they are.
This is where the name Joy in Dementia begins to make sense, even if it initially feels confronting. It is not about pretending the journey is easy. It is about refusing to strip meaning and humanity from someone simply because there is no cure.
That perspective alone can be a lifeline for families who feel swallowed by the heaviness of it all.
How Laura Smothers-Chu Supports Long-Distance Dementia Caregivers
While Laura offers very practical guidance around planning and decision-making, her work goes far beyond checklists. She understands that dementia caregiving, especially from a distance, stirs up deep emotional layers.
In her practice, she integrates mindfulness, grounding practices, and reflective tools to help clients stay present with themselves and their families. She also draws on human design as a way of helping caregivers reconnect with their own inner authority and strengths, particularly when they feel overwhelmed or second-guessing every decision.
What stood out to me was how gently she helps people trust themselves again. Many of her clients already know what needs to be done on some level, but fear, urgency, and family dynamics make it hard to listen inward. Laura’s role is often to help quiet the noise enough that clarity can return.
She is not handing people answers as much as she is helping them access their own.
Resources for Supporting a Parent With Dementia When You Live Apart
I am not writing this because I have expertise in dementia care. I don’t.
I am writing it because I sat across from someone who does this work with integrity, depth, and heart, and I felt it deserved to be seen.
Laura is doing sacred, often invisible work for families who are carrying a great deal quietly. If you are supporting a parent with dementia while living apart, or if you suspect you may be entering that chapter, I want you to know that this support exists, and that you do not have to navigate it alone.