Kelli, I am one of the 'wonderful" caregivers of whom you speak by having kept Mr Bobby at home. True he was physicaly under his own roof in the home he built himself to house his little family but he time and time again asked me to take him home. He thought he was either at his parent's home, or City Hall, or the ball park, or the swamp... on and on... in an automobile with wanting me to drive the mattress but he could not find the steering wheel. One night we ended up sleeping in the woods because he knew I was too old to drive. He would wake up in the morning and ask me how I did that... he knew he went to sleep in all the strange places but in the morning he was in his own bed and he wondered how I always found him and brought him home. That last only a few minutes in the morning however because before the night time, he was off at some strange place asking me where the car was parked and hoped it was not too far for me to bring it around to the front door for him to get in. Even when he got up to feel his way around his bedroom, he kenw it was not his home. He always wanted to go home. He hardly ever knew he was home. My way I felt was best for us but not the only way.

You have a comfortable place for him and you are keeping him as happy as reasonably possible, I think you should not look for greener pastures. Just my opinion. Maybe others feel differently.

Dorthea

Kelli, Frank is home with me, as Dorthea's Mr. B, Frank always wants to go home. He gets upset when I try to show him this is our home. He says someone built a duplicate, painted and papered the same and bought all the same furniture, just to confuse him. Half the time it's in the middle of the night that he's trying to dress to go home. Several times we've driven around, with him giving me directions but he can never find "his home". He does blame me for all of this because I play mind games with his head. There is no right answer, but I think he's best where he is. Your mom may not be able to handle him in the future, it's not going to get better. My heart goes out to you, I did take care of my dad too and he would have been devastated if I had to place him in a nursing home.
Take Care, Gerry

Several years ago I attended a class given by the Alzheimer's Association. The social worker leading the class said that when people say they want to go home, they are referring to their childhood home that they grew up in. I don't know if this is accurate but I think it's a reasonable guess.

Heck, I say I want to go home and I don't have dementia. I know this is a serious topic, but seriously, for decades I have said - out loud - "I want to go home now" whenever I'm nervous, upset, stressed, have made a mistake, etc. It's something that comes out of my mouth from someplace that isn't the thinking part of my brain. My husband is used to it and mostly ignores it or says, "I know, I know" but other people give me a strange look sometimes when they hear it. Home is where I will feel safe and the situation will be all better and everything will be all right. Sometimes it will be a place in time before I made the mistake. To me, it is a comforting thing to express "I want to go home now". Perhaps people with dementia have a more concrete reason, but I'm attempting to share my feeling behind this powerful phrase.

Gerry,
I think what you are describing is a form of Capgras, duplicates of people and places:

Annie, I agree that Going home for some of them is a place they were very safe perhaps in their childhood this was something that drove me crazy as I was always saying "you are home" walked around showing him things that had been part of our lives for yrs then he started talking about the "Bartons" which were our neighbors early in our marriage, he just wouldn't drop it, I had no idea how to find these people but it actually turned out which I never knew when he was 9 yrs old he had neighbors ,with the same last name "Barton" with the help of his siblings we were able to figure it out, it didn't cange much , he still asked to go home and then one day he stopped asking!

I think this one of the hardest times with LBD, the sad look on his face still haunts me to this day!

It is helping taking her for a 20-30 minute ride in the afternoon. She is not getting any better and in fact she has in the last few days sang to me "Have I told you Lately tha tI love you". asked me if i get into her coffin with her and yesterday was thanking me for letting her into my family. Finally got inot a support group starting tonight. Hope this helps.

My husband, too, often insists there we have two houses that are identical, just as there are several of me who are identical.

Almost every time I visit my dad he asks me to take him home. Sometimes it's the town he was born in and lived in till he went to college, sometimes it's the town he lived in for 57 years. But, he says he wants to visit there, not move back there, which takes a lot of pressure off me.
Today he didn't know who my sister is. First he told her he had no idea who she was, then he insisted she was his sister, not his daughter. My sister was devastated. She said "don't you have a daughter named Lynn?" and he said yes. She said "well I'm her sister, your oldest daughter" and he insisted she wasn't who she said she was. So far he hasn't done this with me. Lynn

Leone,
My condolences on the loss of your mother.
Robin

Speaking of the topic, 'I Want to Go Home', he wanted me to drive him 'there' so I did and, of course, ended up back here at our house. Now he won't get out of the car.

Pat, Frank has refused to come into the house at times. I'd get so tired of talking and explaining this is our home, that I got to the point that I wanted say the heck with it, stay out, but you can't. I hope Derek has since come into the house. Hope your evening go a little better.
Take Care, Gerry

He came in finally, after trying to smash the car door and was in even a more foul and threatening mood and I called the police. Two squad cars came. It was embarrassing. Of course, he played the perfect [if confused] gentleman while they were here. But the dispatcher heard him over the phone and knew what was going on. I've fixed dinner and I wonder if he will eat it or throw it in my face. Earlier, when I told him I was making his favorite 'twice-baked potatoes', he told me to stuff them in my crotch.