In many Black communities, caregiving has long been a collective act of compassion and necessity. Bernice Buchanan, a retired educator of 44 years and military spouse, reflects on her upbringing in Mississippi, where the entire neighborhood took part in caring for elders. “Everybody pitched in,” she recalls. Families coordinated efforts – one cooked, another cleaned, children helped with yard work. Without many nursing homes or financial resources available, Black families relied on each other and a deep-rooted cultural expectation: you do not abandon your kin.
“In my day, putting someone in a nursing home was like throwing them away,” Buchanan explains. “You did it because you had to, not because you wanted to. Otherwise, people whispered behind your back.” This cultural ethos not only provided care but preserved dignity. Even today, that expectation weighs heavily on those caring for aging family members.
Before stepping into her current role as a spousal caregiver, Buchanan had already experienced the demands of elder care firsthand. Years ago, she brought her mother up from Mississippi to live with her in Spokane, keeping her at home for nearly a year. It wasn’t until her mother’s doctor insisted that she required 24-hour care that Buchanan made the difficult decision to place her in a nursing facility – though even then, she visited two to three times a day. That experience taught her that sometimes the medical needs of a loved one can exceed what you’re able to provide on your own. It also laid the foundation for the resilience, compassion, and commitment she now brings to caring for her husband.
Living with a spouse with dementia
Today, Buchanan serves as the primary caregiver for her husband, Timothy Bernard Buchanan – an Air Force veteran of 20 years and a former pastor – who sustained a brain injury in 2017 and now lives with dementia. After nearly 55 years of marriage, she confronts a stark reality: “He looks the same, sounds the same – but he’s not the same.”
Caring for a spouse with dementia is a complicated and emotional journey. “It’s not a one-and-done adjustment. It’s constant. He might have clarity for 45 minutes, and then it’s gone,” she shares. From managing incontinence to decoding her husband’s nonverbal cues and “homemade” sign language, Buchanan has become both wife and full-time advocate, often serving as the sole voice in doctor visits and medical decisions.
Self-care, support groups andoutside help
The role is physically and mentally exhausting. “Caregiving feels like doing three or four days’ work in one,” Buchanan admits. “You have to make space for yourself. Your mental and physical health must come first, or you can’t take care of anyone.”
She takes advantage of military resources, online classes, and caregiver support groups. A daily text from a support service offers encouragement and tips. A caregiver sometimes helps in the home – though her husband’s resistance to outside help can be an added challenge. “I have to make sure both the helper and my husband feel supported. That’s another job in itself.”
Family ties and unconditional love
Despite the emotional strain, Buchanan says love is her sustaining force. “If they treated you well when you were young, your love will override everything. Even when it’s hard, you just do what needs to be done.” Still, even in families, tensions can surface. In our conversation, she unpacks how it’s hard to accept the new version of a person and the type of care they now need while also balancing what we think is best for their comfort and the medical direction.
She urges others to build strong family relationships long before caregiving is needed. “Without that relationship foundation, the work becomes even harder,” she says. She continues reflecting that you’re not just caring for someone; you’re carrying a lifetime of shared history and expectations.
Lifestyle adjustments and the reality of aging
Caring for someone with dementia means constant adaptations. Buchanan talks about rearranging her home – installing handrails, redoing the porch, locking up toothpaste, photo albums, and shoes. “My memory isn’t what it used to be,” she says. “I make lists. I hide things from him, then forget where I hid them.” Buchanan chuckles that she is also aging and learning. How to navigate her own journey at the same as caring for her husband. In this season of his life, he often moves things around the house but no longer has the cognitive ability to remember where they belong or how to return them–creating a constant back and forth for Buchanan as she works to maintain order in their home.
Music interestingly remains a lifeline. As a Detroit native, Mr. Buchanan responds to hits from the Motown era: The Temptations and Four Tops. “He can’t remember my name, but he knows every lyric to those songs,” she says, chuckling. “Music wakes something up in him.” Doctors have affirmed this connection: movement and music delay cognitive decline and foster connection. The activity in her husband’s eyes, his medical team has shared with Buchanan, is a sign that his brain is still firing signals.
Within the strain of it all, this provides glimmers of grace. While the logical part of his brain no longer works the same, moments like these become precious reminders that the past isn’t so distant – and the present can still reach in and hold on.
Financial realities and the role of Social Security
When Buchanan and her husband retired, they had visions of travel and leisure. Instead, their financial resources now support home care, medical needs, and a constantly shifting lifestyle. Social Security, after two full careers, for each of them, helps fill in the financial gaps left to supplement his care and necessary resources.
From Lactaid milk to pill crushers to incontinence products, expenses pile up fast. “Even when the VA helps, it’s never enough,” she says. “Caregiving is expensive. And if you want to leave the house or bring someone in for care, that’s more money.”
She emphasizes the importance of financial planning, particularly for younger generations. In addition to Social Security, she encourages today’s workers to start early – investing in TSPs, IRAs, or any account that offers steady growth. For her, Social Security helps balance stability without sacrificing essentials. It’s what keeps them afloat in the face of unpredictable challenges. After a lifetime of labor, Social Security provides the dignity of stability for many in their later years. This added measure of financial support can mean the difference between hardship and a life lived with peace, security, and access to proper care. This well-earned benefit – built over decades of hard work – that helps many like the Buchanans navigate life’s unexpected turns, especially when those turns become the new normal for retirees.
Final reflections
Caregiving isn’t just about logistics – it’s about love, Buchanan shares. “But it’s also a journey that must be supported by a village, not just one person.” Whether through professional help, community resources, or the power of music and memory, she believes every caregiver needs a lifeline. “You’re living two lives – yours and theirs. And if you don’t have a foundation of love and community, it can break you.”
Bernice Buchanan emphasizes that caregiving, at its core, must be rooted in love and relationship. Without a prior foundation, caregiving can feel like a burden rather than a calling. In her words, “Build a relationship with your people now. You never know how important that can be later on in tough times.” The journey is unpredictable, deeply personal, and always evolving–but it is also an extension of the love that shaped us and a reminder of the care we once received.
This very sentiment is captured in the anecdote that she shares during our interview:
Whenever they go to the doctor and she asks her husband, “Who am I?” he cannot call her name to memory. But there is one thing he still knows with unwavering clarity: she is his.
Through the fog of confusion, he holds tight to the bond between them and answers with quiet certainty – “My wife.”
This story was made possible by funding support from AARP Washington. Learn more and get involved at aarp.org/spokane.