A son’s long-distance commitment to his mother in long-term care

Robin Jones lives and works in Seattle, hundreds of kilometres from his mother, Sandra, who lives in a long-term care facility in Calgary. Distance hasn’t changed how responsible he feels for her well-being.

Jones and his brother pay for extra private home care for Sandra, who is living with advanced dementia. The extra help gives her companionship and personal attention, and it keeps her sons connected to her daily life and able to speak up for her needs.

For Jones, moving his mother into long-term care changed how he cares for her.

“My mom is fully incapacitated now. She is slowly deteriorating,” he says. Sandra uses a wheelchair and needs extensive help with daily activities.

That is hard to square with the woman he remembers: a writer, English teacher and creative thinker who taught at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity and worked with author W.O. Mitchell.

As dementia progressed, Sandra gradually lost much of her independence. She can still recognize her son, but she struggles to understand time and place and to put her thoughts together.

“She doesn’t know what day it is. She knows who I am,” Jones says.

Their conversations still mean something to him, even when her words are hard to follow. He knows her so well that it helps him understand what she is trying to say.

Buying time at home

Before Sandra entered long-term care, she lived with her husband in North Haven, the Calgary neighbourhood where Jones and his brother grew up.

Jones saw them regularly. Then his stepfather, who had been having health problems, died suddenly.

With her husband gone, Sandra lost much of her daily support. Her dementia was also making it harder for her to live on her own.

Jones began arranging home care, bringing in workers for a couple of hours in the morning and again in the afternoon. They helped with meals and other daily needs.

He hoped to keep his mother in familiar surroundings for as long as possible.

“As you get older, your world gets smaller,” he says, describing the challenges his stepfather had faced as Sandra’s dementia progressed.

Jones already had connections with home care providers, so he could arrange help quickly. As Sandra’s needs grew, he added hours.

He wanted to protect her independence, but safety was becoming a worry. Sandra began wandering at night, and the family realized she could no longer stay at home safely.

The cost of more home care was also getting harder to justify next to the support available in a residential setting. That was when the family started looking at long-term care facilities.

Jones says the extra home care bought the family time to research their options instead of rushing a decision in the middle of a crisis.

Finding the right facility took a while, and the move took planning. The home care workers helped organize it, which gave Sandra some continuity during a big change.

She first moved into a facility in Scenic Acres, near Crowfoot. Jones wanted her to stay close to her former home and the church she attended.

Private caregivers kept taking her to church each week and out for dinner twice a week.

Eventually her dementia progressed to the point where those outings became too difficult, and she moved to a centre that offered more care.

The family’s role changed after the move, and they kept arranging extra support.

An extra set of eyes and ears

Jones and his brother still arrange private care for Sandra at her current residence.

His brother lives in Japan, and Jones travels between Seattle and Calgary, so neither of them can always be there in person.

Right now, a caregiver visits Sandra twice a week. Jones can talk with his mother by phone through the caregiver’s phone, which matters because Sandra can no longer reliably use a phone on her own.

The calls help him gauge her mood, tell good days from bad ones and understand how she is coping.

The caregiver is also his eyes on the ground. Jones sees her as someone who can watch his mother’s circumstances closely and bring concerns to the family.

“The value is they represent me,” he says.

Long-term care staff work hard, but Jones believes a private caregiver can pay closer attention to his mother because her care is their only focus.

That matters to him because his mother can no longer reliably tell anyone what she needs.

“They are advocating for me. They’re advocating for my mother,” he says.

It also helps when he visits Calgary. He doesn’t have to spend the trip piecing together what has happened since his last visit, because he can get a clearer picture right away.

“It allows you to be more responsive very quickly,” he says.

Trust makes a difference

Jones also believes the relationship between Sandra and her private caregivers has improved her quality of life.

He says her current caregiver, who is originally from Brazil, has built a relationship of trust with his mother.

At one point, Sandra had begun refusing to shower. Jones says the caregiver was able to encourage her to accept help with personal care.

He believes familiarity and trust make it easier for Sandra to take part in things she might otherwise resist. For someone living with dementia, a familiar face and a consistent relationship can mean a great deal.

The caregiver knows Sandra as an individual and finds ways to connect with her despite the changes the disease has brought.

Why families keep paying for extra care

Chris Brown, Home Care Liaison with The Key, a home care provider, says some families keep using private home care after a loved one moves into a long-term care facility.

Their reasons can include companionship, extra help with daily activities and more individual attention. For families of people with dementia, keeping familiar caregivers can also provide continuity as needs change.

It is a financial commitment, and families have to weigh the cost of the extra services against the benefits they see.

For Jones, the value is having someone who knows his mother, can build a relationship with her and can alert the family when something seems wrong. The level of support can also be adjusted as Sandra’s condition changes.

Many families find the same thing: long-term care doesn’t remove the need for hands-on involvement, hard decisions and close monitoring.

A responsibility that doesn’t disappear

Jones knows that advocating for a parent in care takes time, attention and a willingness to ask questions.

“You have to watch the home a little bit,” he says. “You can’t just walk away.”

He says not every family has the resources, time or ability to provide the same level of oversight, and living far away makes it harder. For him and his brother, the extra home care is one way to bridge that gap.

Sandra is no longer the independent, intellectually engaged woman she once was. She still has relationships, preferences and a need for dignity.

Her sons can’t reverse the effects of dementia. They can make sure someone is paying attention, concerns get raised and she keeps receiving care from people who know her.

For Jones, that is what caregiving looks like now: staying involved, even from hundreds of kilometres away.

The Key received a national award in 2026 through ElderCare Review: https://www.eldercarereview.com/thekey-home-care-2026