Despite Dementia, My Actor Mom Shines on Stage
Eleah Boyd shares how her mom, who lives with dementia, continues to pursue her passion of acting.
July 9, 2025
Nine years ago, my parents came to live with us while my dad was in hospice. At the time, none of us imagined that their short stay would become a permanent chapter for my mom, Dixie. After my dad passed, we began to notice small lapses in Mom’s memory — missed appointments, confusion over simple tasks, moments of forgetfulness that didn’t feel like typical aging. She was officially diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment six years ago, and in the years since, she’s been receiving treatment for amyloid plaque — a drug called Leqembi. Meanwhile, her short-term memory loss has become significant, and dementia is now a part of our daily lives.
Caring for someone with Alzheimer’s at home is a journey of constant adaptation. There are hard days filled with repetition, confusion, and moments of deep sadness as we watch someone we love fade in and out of the present. But there is also beauty. Unexpected, powerful beauty.
For my mom, the stage is where she comes alive. Theatre has always been her passion, acting, singing, and connecting with others in that magical space. We quickly learned that rehearsals, and especially performances, have a transformative effect on her. The stress, anxiety, and disorientation that come with sundowning almost disappear on rehearsal nights. She finds calm and purpose when she’s doing what she loves most. It’s as if stepping into character brings back a part of her that Alzheimer’s hasn’t taken.
Early on, after receiving her first role at our community theatre, we realized she could no longer memorize lines, and Mom immediately contacted the director to decline the role. But the director was firm in her answer, “Dixie, you will play the part. We will figure it out.”
We experimented with different solutions until we found one that worked. Using a simple, inexpensive tour guide system, I feed her lines into a small earpiece while she’s on stage. It’s discreet, effective, and has opened the door for her to keep doing what she loves. No one in the audience has any idea she’s being prompted. She’s performed this way as Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music, the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz, Grandma in The Addams Family, and has participated in several ensemble roles. As I’m writing this, she’s preparing to play Grandma Tzeitel in Fiddler on the Roof.
Watching my mom perform fills me with joy. It reminds me of who she is beyond her diagnosis. Dementia has changed her, but it hasn’t taken her spirit. These performances don’t just lift her — they lift me, and they are inspiring to others, not just because she is a fabulous performer, but because she is doing it despite her new limitations. I continue to do the hard work of caregiving because love is action. It’s finding ways to help someone live fully, even in the face of loss.
Dementia care isn’t easy. There are moments of exhaustion, grief, and helplessness. But seeing my mom on stage, laughing, singing, and engaging with her theatre family shines a bright spotlight on what is possible. It’s not just getting through the days, it is living with purpose. And for now, that’s more than enough.
