My mom was diagnosed with dementia in early 2025, although our family had known for some time that something wasn’t right. Like I suspect many families do, we initially tried to educate ourselves and navigate it on our own. We read books, searched the internet, listened to podcasts, took courses and tried to learn everything we possibly could.
What we quickly discovered is that no amount of reading can really prepare you for this. Every person’s dementia presents and progresses differently. You are trying to understand a disease that is constantly changing while simultaneously navigating doctors, caregivers, living arrangements, finances, safety concerns and extraordinarily difficult decisions. And layered on top of all of that are the emotions of the person you love and the dynamics of an entire family trying to figure out what to do.
My mom was particularly resistant to accepting help, and there were periods when the situation was incredibly volatile. We were overwhelmed and, quite frankly, there were times when we simply did not know what to do next.
By what I can only describe as an extraordinary stroke of good fortune, I was referred to Nancy Avitabile at Urban Eldercare.
From my very first conversations with Nancy, something changed. She brought an extraordinary combination of expertise, judgment, compassion and calm to a situation that often felt anything but calm. She listened—not just to what was happening with my mom, but to what was happening around her and to all of us. She understood that dementia doesn’t happen to one person in isolation; an entire family has to learn how to live with and respond to a disease none of them chose and few are prepared to navigate.
Over time, Nancy became an invaluable guide through virtually every dimension of my mom’s progression. She helped us think through what behaviors meant and how to respond to them. She helped us navigate caregivers and care agencies. She helped us evaluate when my mom’s living situation was no longer appropriate and think through what should come next. She helped us assess different care communities and understand the difference between what was being marketed to us and what my mom actually needed. She was an advocate for my mom. And sometimes she simply helped us get through an extraordinarily difficult day.
One of the things I valued most was the independence and integrity of Nancy’s advice. The elder-care world can be incredibly difficult for a family to navigate because you are making consequential decisions at precisely the moment when you are most vulnerable and least experienced. Nancy never made us feel that she was steering us toward a particular provider or solution. Her focus was consistently on my mom—who she was, where she was in her disease, what she needed at that moment—and on helping our family make the best decisions we could for her.
She also told us things we didn’t necessarily want to hear when we needed to hear them. She could be reassuring without offering false reassurance, direct without being insensitive, and compassionate without ever losing her objectivity. That combination is extraordinarily rare.
My mom has now moved into an assisted living community appropriate for this next stage of her life. Looking back at everything that happened between diagnosis and getting her safely there, I genuinely do not know how we would have navigated it without Nancy.
There are people you hire to provide a service, and then occasionally there are people who fundamentally change your ability to get through something extraordinarily difficult. Nancy was that person for our family.
If someone I loved called me tomorrow and told me that a parent or spouse had been diagnosed with dementia and asked me what they should do first, my answer would be very simple: call Nancy Avitabile.
I cannot recommend her or Urban Eldercare highly enough.