Fixed S3 Ep 11 - When the Sun Sets, the Storm Begins: Beating Sundowning with Love and Strategy

Welcome back to the Caregiver Secrets Podcast! I am so excited that you are here and I please know that this is the  show where we share practical advice, heartfelt stories, and encouragement to my fellow family caregivers. Thank you for listening today. I am Reggie and I have been caring for my mom for over 10 years now. I personally know how isolating caregiving can be and I want  you to know that you’re not alone on this journey, and together, we’ll share the joys and challenges of caregiving with compassion and support.

My friends,  this is not medical, financial, or health advice. Please consult with the appropriate professionals for specific concerns. My role is to inform and support you as best I can, but the actions you take are totally up to you. With that said, let’s get to work.

Today, I have the perfect story to help us explore today’s topic.

Martin had always been a man of quiet strength, a husband whose dedication to his wife, Elaine, had never wavered through their fifty years of marriage. When Elaine was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, Martin had promised to be her anchor. At first, the changes were slow, manageable—forgotten names, misplaced keys, stories repeated within minutes. But as the disease progressed, new challenges emerged, none more distressing than the chaos that arrived with dusk.

The first time Martin noticed it, Elaine had been fine all day—chatting softly about their children, holding his hand as they walked in the garden. But as the sun began to dip below the horizon, something shifted. Her warm gaze clouded with suspicion. “Who are you?” she had asked, her voice sharp, frightened. The words hit Martin like a blow.

He had tried to remind her, gently, patiently, but that only seemed to agitate her more. She became restless, pacing the house, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. Then came the paranoia—insisting there were strangers in the house, that someone was trying to steal from her. She refused to sit, refused to be consoled. That night, Martin barely slept, holding Elaine’s trembling hand as she finally drifted into a fitful sleep.

As the weeks passed, the pattern became heartbreakingly clear. Every evening, like clockwork, Elaine’s agitation returned. She became anxious, confused, and sometimes even angry. Once, she had tried to leave the house, convinced she needed to “go home,” though they had lived there for over forty years. Martin realized this was sundowning, a cruel and common feature of dementia.

Determined to help Elaine through it, Martin began to educate himself. He learned that sundowning could be triggered by disrupted circadian rhythms, overstimulation, or even a sense of being lost in time. He started making small changes, each one designed to bring a little more peace to their evenings.

He adjusted the lighting in their home, ensuring that as the sun set, their rooms remained warm and bright. He introduced soft instrumental music in the background—songs from their youth that seemed to calm her. He made sure the house was quiet in the late afternoons, limiting television noise and unpredictable sounds that might startle her.

One of the biggest changes was to their routine. Mornings became their most active time—short walks in the backyard, light stretching, reminiscing over old photos. He made sure Elaine stayed engaged during the day, avoiding long naps that might throw off her internal clock. He also adjusted their meals, giving her a lighter dinner, reducing caffeine and sugar intake.

Some nights were still difficult, but the changes helped. Instead of battling with her confusion, he learned to redirect her. When she became anxious about “going home,” he would gently say, “We’ll leave in the morning. For now, let’s sit together.” That simple reassurance often settled her.

One night, as Martin sat beside her, Elaine placed her hand on his and smiled. “You’re such a nice man,” she whispered. “You remind me of my husband.”

Tears welled in Martin’s eyes, but he simply squeezed her hand. “I think he loves you very much,” he said softly.

Caregivers, sundowning is one of the most challenging aspects of dementia care, but there are ways to make evenings calmer. Researchers have found that structured routines, light therapy, and environmental modifications can all help. Studies show that limiting evening stimulation, playing soothing music, and keeping familiar objects nearby can reduce anxiety and confusion.

But perhaps the most important thing is what Martin discovered—meeting your loved one where they are. Rather than forcing reality upon them, guiding them gently through their fears, reassuring them with love, and finding creative ways to bring comfort.

If you're dealing with sundowning, try making small adjustments. Keep a consistent evening routine, use soft lighting, avoid overstimulation, and offer comforting words instead of corrections. And if tonight is difficult, remember: you’re not alone. Other caregivers have been where you are. There is hope, there are strategies, and most importantly, there is love.

I’d love to hear from you. Have you found any strategies that help with sundowning? Share your story in the comments or email me. And if this episode resonated with you, don’t forget to subscribe and share it with another caregiver who might need it today.

And don’t forget to join our Facebook community at bit.ly/CaregiverSecretsOnFacebook, where we share stories, tips, and encouragement. Together, we can build a village of support and make this journey a little lighter.

Finally, I’d love for you to grab a free copy of my book, Get Risen. It’s written by a family caregiver for caregivers, and you can get it at bit.ly/GetRisen.

Thank you for spending this time with me today. Keep going, caregiver. You’re doing an incredible job. Until next time. Please remember, you’ve got this!