By Donna M. Bergman

December 10, 2026

A deeply personal caregiving experience reveals a broader leadership lesson: when expectations do not match a person’s capacity – curiosity, clarity, and compassion matter more than judgment.

Dad was back in the hospital. He awoke in the middle of the night with chest pains and was taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital, about 40 minutes away in the quiet town of Sierra Vista, at the base of the Huachuca Mountains in Arizona.

He was admitted for observation while they ran more tests. The next morning, he was pleased with the doctor’s assessment and cleared to go home. There was just one problem: he didn’t have any clothes. His dentures were on the bathroom counter, and, at the very least, he needed a pair of slippers. He asked my mom to return to the ranch and bring what he needed so they could go home.

Hours passed. Then the nurse called me in Idaho. “We can’t find your mother,” she said. My heart dropped. I was all too familiar with Arizona’s Silver Alerts for missing seniors. They did not typically end well.

The nurse explained how long my mom had been gone. The drive from the hospital to the ranch was 40 minutes each way, less than 90 minutes round trip. She had been gone for three hours, a full 90 minutes longer than expected.

I started by calling the house phone. No answer. I called her cell. Straight to voicemail. It was probably dead. She charged it only at night, and the night before, she had been at the hospital. Completely rational, I told myself.

Who else could I call? I pictured her car in a ditch somewhere, just as she had pictured mine when I was younger. Every time I was a little late for curfew, she assumed the worst. Why is it that only the most extreme explanations come to mind in moments like these?

As I tried to determine what to do next, the phone rang again. It was the nurse. My mom had just walked in. Relief.

I was so happy she was safe, but relief quickly gave way to questions. Where had she been? What had taken so long? I slipped into what I call “mom mode.” The worry and dread gave way to anger and frustration, but like a boomerang, they soon returned.

To this day, I do not know where she went or fully understand what she was doing during that time. What I do know is that she returned to the hospital a little more than three hours after leaving. She brought nothing but a brand-new package of socks from Target, less than five miles from the hospital. No clothes. No slippers. No dentures. Just socks.

The hospital staff gave my dad an extra gown to cover his backside and a pair of hospital-issued yellow grippy socks that screamed “fall risk,” then helped him to the car. He carried the unopened package of socks in his arms as they left the hospital.

Dad’s frustration began to grow. How could the love of his life, the woman who had managed a family of nine, no longer help him with simple things such as clothes and dentures? The engineer in him was searching for a fix.

Aha Moments

Caregivers, including medical professionals and family members, spend an extraordinary amount of time and energy solving practical problems. But dementia changes those problems in ways many of us do not immediately recognize.

Dementia can change a person’s capacity to understand instructions and their ability to carry them out. In its early stages, those changes are often hidden from view.

The nurses and doctors had no idea what was lurking just beneath the surface. They saw a confident woman in her seventies who was genuinely concerned for her husband and willing to do whatever it took to bring him home safely. Dementia can be difficult to see.

Looking back, no one involved that day adjusted their expectations to match my mother’s capabilities. Not the hospital staff. Not my father. Certainly not me. We were all asking someone with emerging dementia to perform as though nothing had changed.

The mistake was understandable. It is also remarkably common in leadership.

There’s Always a Lesson

People are not always responding to the reality we think they are. Leaders sometimes forget that.

We assume our team members are on the same page. We assume they understand where the organization or team is going and how their daily work connects to that direction. We assume they have the skills and support to deliver what is being asked of them. Those assumptions are where leaders get into trouble.

As leaders, one of our greatest responsibilities is to develop our team members and grow future leaders. The single most valuable tool in a leader’s arsenal is curiosity. When we ask better questions, we encourage critical thinking and more quickly identify gaps in capacity, capability, clarity, or support.

Teach-back is another valuable leadership tool. When we ask a team member to explain an assignment or expectation in their own words, we create an opportunity to listen with the intent to learn. We can discover what is clear, what is missing, and where additional guidance may be needed. It is one way to avoid getting socks when what you needed was clothes, dentures, and slippers.

Seeing What Is Possible

Compassion, whether in caregiving or leadership, begins when we stop asking, “Why would someone do that?” and start asking, “What reality are they facing?” That simple shift helps us meet people where they are and support them in reaching the next milestone.

As Ted Lasso reminds us, “Be curious, not judgmental.”

Helping People See What Is Possible.