A Window into the Past: Honoring the Person
March 21, 2025 | Care Management, Caregiving
As I think back to my childhood, I remember my grandmother, Louise who was born in 1876 in Copenhagen, Denmark. We all lived together in our old Victorian home, with my grandmother on the first floor, and my parents, siblings, and I on the second. (The basement was reserved for our ghost).
When I visited my grandmother, I would always find her sitting at the desk, surrounded by clutter to include articles, books, and papers. Â She was always dressed in a long black dress with her grey hair neatly pinned into a bun. So many years later, I can still picture her at that desk, like it was yesterday. As I reminiscence, I fondly remember that time with my grandmother was one of my best childhood memories. When she passed, at 89 years old, a void was left in my heart. I was only eight years old.
As I matured my interest in my family history grew. This is when I learned so much more about my grandmother, whose name was Louise. I found out that her husband, Erik, a Lutheran minister, had died 20 years prior. She was in mourning and that is why she wore a black dress, each day. I also discovered that Louise and her ten siblings all got university degrees (boys and girls) at the turn of the 20th century. Next, I found out that my grandmother earned a PhD in actuarial science and was the first woman in Denmark to do so. She did not marry until age 36 and had four children. This was highly unusual at a time where women did not pursue a career and usually married early. Even as she aged, Louise would write editorials and was involved in local issues and politics, hence her cluttered desk.
I next learned more about Louise’s youngest daughter, Gudrun (Gutte). She was born 1918 and had a long career as an international ceramic artist, traveling all over the world displaying her art at galleries. Gutte lived in the countryside in an old, converted schoolhouse from the 16th century, and every day would gather and knead the clay for her ceramics, while firing up the huge kiln in her studio. Even though her arthritic hands could not knead the clay any longer she would exhibit her completed art pieces in Japan, Paris, and New York City. I was lucky enough to have her in my life for close to 50 years, until she passed at age 90.
I then learned more about Lilly who was Louise’s oldest daughter and was born in 1907. Lilly wore bright silk blouses, miniskirts, and stiletto heels, even to coffee. All I could imagine was how she dressed for dinner! Lilly had dark colored hair that she always wore in a beehive. She never went out in public without a full face of make-up and was a cigar smoker. Lilly married at 17 and was still in love with her husband when she passed at age 89. I had many opportunities to visit with her throughout my life, and I cherish every minute. She had a wry sense of humor, was a gourmet cook, and carried herself with such dignity until the very end.
Thinking back about my family and their unique personal histories I truly see that when you meet one 90-year-old, you meet one 90-year-old. Everyone is different, with unique life experiences, preferences, and histories. Even in a small homogenous country like Denmark, you see such a variety of life experiences, preferences, and opportunities.
As a Care Manager, I am in a unique position to help individuals navigate a chapter of their lives. I recognize that their health conditions or disabilities don’t define them as a whole person. Every individual has a rich history, experiences, values, and aspirations that go far beyond what might be immediately visible. Taking time to understand these personal stories and preferences can build a more compassionate and effective care plan, one that aligns with the person’s values and respects their autonomy. It’s about seeing the whole person, not just focusing on their challenges. This is the focus on person-centered care. So, what can be done for individuals with physical or mental ailments to bring them back to their center, their true selves?
So, what is person centered care and how could this approach be used with someone like my Aunt Gutte? Simply, person-centered care encompasses an individual’s needs, wants and preferences. It looks at the whole person and allows for a plan to be made to ensure respectful and unique care. With Gutte, she felt limited by her arthritis. Feeling she could no longer knead clay as she had done for years. However, studies have discovered that working with clay can increase the range of motion and help with stiffness in those with arthritis. Had a person-centered approach to care been provided, Gutte could have continued making art. Something she spent much of her life doing, instead of feeling limited by her physical ailments.
Now what about Lilly? Lilly unfortunately lost her leg, late in life. For a woman that had prided herself on being fashionable, at all times, this knocked her self-confidence. She no longer wore her brightly colored outfits or did her hair. So, what if her care team had created a spa day? Took her to get her hair and makeup done with instructions to the stylist to recreate the beehive. Would that have had the potential to bring back a piece of joy for Lilly? I would like to think so.
In “Being Mortal” Dr. Atul Gawande, professor at Harvard Medical School and surgeon at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston writes: “As people become aware of the finitude of their life, they do not ask for much. They do not seek more riches. They do not seek more power. They ask only to be permitted, insofar as possible, to keep shaping the story of their life” (p. 147).
Every person carries a unique narrative and acknowledging that fact is essential for creating environments where people can thrive. When we take the time to understand others as individuals—honoring their experiences, values, and needs—we empower them to continue shaping their own paths.
Lisbeth Smith is a Gerontologist and Aging Life Care Manager with Elder Options, Inc. Lisbeth has had lifelong empathy for older adults that ignited when she worked at a nursing home in Denmark in the 1970’s but was distressed by the lack of time she was allowed to spend with each resident.  The field of Care Management allows Lisbeth to develop meaningful relationships with each client she serves.