About Liz
Support for the emotional side of loving someone with dementia.
I work with partners and adult children whose lives have changed alongside someone they love.
When dementia enters a family, there is usually a lot of attention on the person who has the diagnosis. That makes sense.
But their diagnosis changes things for you too.
Your relationship may change. Your role may change. You may suddenly be making decisions you never expected to make, carrying responsibilities you did not choose, or trying to figure out what the right thing is when there is no clear answer.
My work gives you a place to pay attention to what this experience is doing to you.
Hi, I’m Liz.
Over the years, I have sat with people in the middle of losses that did not have easy answers — grief, family changes, identity shifts, difficult decisions, and seasons of life where the old way of doing things no longer worked.
Dementia became a much more personal part of my work when Alzheimer’s entered my husband’s family.
My husband became the person people called. There were appointments, decisions, questions, changing roles, family conversations, worry, frustration, and a lot that simply had to be handled.
And underneath all of that was something quieter.
His relationship with his dad was changing. His role in the family was changing. Our lives were changing.
There was no single moment when someone said, “This is happening to you too.”
But it was.
The person with dementia is not the only person whose life changes.
Why I Focus on the Emotional Side of Dementia
There are many important resources that help families understand dementia itself — memory changes, behaviors, communication, safety, care options, and planning.
But both professionally and inside my own family, I kept noticing another part of the experience that people did not always have a place to talk about.
What is it like to love someone who is still here but changing?
What happens when you become the decision-maker in a relationship that used to be shared?
What happens when you are exhausted and angry and guilty at the same time?
What happens when you are doing everything that needs to be done but you no longer feel much like yourself?
That is the part of dementia I focus on.
What I Pay Attention To
Grief and loss
The losses that happen while the person you love is still here — changes in connection, roles, shared plans, and the relationship you once knew.
Uncertainty and decisions
Living without clear answers, making choices for someone else, and dealing with the fear that you may get something wrong.
Roles, identity, and self-trust
What happens when you become the organizer, advocate, decision-maker, or point person — and start wondering where you fit inside all of it.
Capacity, limits, and needs
Understanding what you realistically have to give, what is becoming too much, and what you may need instead of expecting yourself to handle everything.
How I Approach This Work
I believe people need room to be honest about what dementia is doing to them.
Not more pressure to handle it perfectly.
Not more reasons to judge themselves for feeling angry, exhausted, guilty, confused, or unsure.
When I work with someone, I try to slow things down enough to look at what is actually happening.
What are you feeling? What has changed? What are you carrying? What matters to you? What do you need? What do you realistically have capacity for right now?
Sometimes we are talking about grief.
Sometimes it is guilt after losing your patience.
Sometimes it is a decision you keep second-guessing.
Sometimes it is the realization that you miss the person you used to be in this relationship.
I am less interested in telling someone what they should feel or what the “right” response is.
I am more interested in helping them understand what is happening inside them, so they can move through hard moments with more clarity, steadiness, and trust in themselves.
A Little More of the Personal Side
My father-in-law’s Alzheimer’s lasted for years.
Our family lived through changing relationships, difficult visits, uncertainty, decisions, tension, moments of connection, exhaustion, and grief.
Since his death, there has also been the looking back.
There were things we handled well. Things that were hard. Things we wish had been different. Things we did not understand until later.
I do not think families need a cleaned-up version of what dementia is like.
There can be love and anger. Relief and guilt. Connection and distance. Good moments and painful ones.
Sometimes all of those things can exist at the same time.
That reality shapes the way I work today.
You are part of this story too.
If someone you love has dementia and you have been wondering where there is room for your experience in all of this, that is the work I am here to support.
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Use of this website and any services offered is at your own risk. Liz Brown LLC is not responsible for any injury, loss, or damage resulting from reliance on the information provided. References or links to external resources are provided for convenience and do not constitute endorsement.
