Odensehuis Burgum: Support for (dealing with) dementia

Column: One Last Time with Music (April 1, 2026)

By: Niels Nijdam

My husband was always a musician through and through. Guitar in hand, writing his own songs, and an audience that loved it. Until Alzheimer’s slowly changed everything. Caring for him became my daily life. We used to take care of each other; now I’m the only one taking care of him.

Perform? That wasn’t possible anymore. But he wanted to do it one more time. Take the stage one last time. I took care of everything: I printed out the lyrics, arranged them in order, and timed the applause just right. I did everything to protect him, so he wouldn’t stumble over what once came naturally.

And it worked. He was beaming. He felt like a musician again. He gratefully accepted the applause. I looked at him, tears in my eyes. I hadn’t seen him this happy in a long time.

I know it will never happen again. But deep down, I was hoping for just one word: “Thank you.” It never came. Still, I know I gave him the most precious thing of all: the feeling that he could still do it.

You are always welcome at the Odensehuis—whether you’d like to chat, need a listening ear, or want some advice.
Open every Tuesday and Friday from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. at Prins Bernardstraat 74 in Burgum.

Niels Nijdam

Column: Different (March 25, 2026)

I’ve always felt different. I rarely managed to connect with others. I often felt left out and lonely. That shaped my childhood and my life. You learn to cope with it, but the feeling that you always have to defend yourself remains.

Two years ago, I was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For many people, that’s a huge change, but strangely enough, it wasn’t for me. It’s not the same, but that feeling of being left out—I recognize it all over again.

I’ve been going to the Odensehuis for a few months now. Someone there asked me the other day how I was doing. “Fine,” I said. “How do you do that?” he asked. “You have Alzheimer’s—how can you feel okay?” That question caught me off guard.

Later, I realized why: ever since I started going to the Odense House, I’ve been meeting people who understand what it’s like to live with this disease. For the first time, I don’t feel different—I feel understood. For the first time, I’m allowed to just be myself. And that’s why I feel good.

You are always welcome at the Odensehuis—whether you’re looking for a chat, a listening ear, or some advice. We’re open every Tuesday and Friday from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. at Prins Bernardstraat 74 in Burgum.

Niels Nijdam

Column: Concert Pass (March 18, 2026)

Albert and I went grocery shopping for lunch at the Odensehuis, as usual.
“Should I pay this time?” Albert asked. “You’re always the one who pays!”

The woman at the register announced the total: €24.64. Albert took out his wallet, inserted a card into the machine, and entered the PIN.
“That didn’t go quite right,” said the cashier. She looked at the card and read aloud: “Concert Pass.”
“But sir, you can’t pay with this.”

I came to Albert’s aid: “That’s strange—this pass worked just fine last week.”
“Exactly!” Albert added.

The young woman was confused and called the store manager over. He, too, concluded that paying with a concert pass wouldn’t work. I quickly paid the amount, and together we walked straight out of the store.
“Well, we’re never coming back here!” said Albert.

You are always welcome at the Odensehuis—whether you’re looking for a chat, a listening ear, or some advice. We’re open every Tuesday and Friday from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. at Prins Bernardstraat 74 in Burgum.

Niels Nijdam