I think most of us assume we’d notice straight away if something changed with Mum or Dad. Then you realise how much a ten-minute phone call can hide, especially when they live in another state.
This one’s close to home for me. My mum is one of eight kids, originally from New Zealand. She came over to Australia in the late 70s or early 80s (I can’t quite remember which), and slowly most of her siblings and her parents followed, settling in different parts of Victoria. Then, one by one, most of them packed up again and moved to Queensland to chase the heat.
So a big chunk of my family now lives a couple of hours’ flight away. That’s great for winter holidays. It’s less great when you start wondering who would actually notice if one of them needed more help than they were letting on.
It’s not an abstract worry, either. Both of my grandmothers, on Mum’s side and Dad’s side, developed dementia towards the end of their lives, so it’s something our family has been through more than once. If I live that long, I figure I’m probably next in line. I’m told family history isn’t destiny, but I’ve started doing the crossword just in case.
I don’t think we’re unusual. Plenty of South Melbourne locals seem to have a parent or relative who moved north for the warmer weather. It’s a great plan right up until something changes and you’re trying to work out what’s actually going on from a voice on the phone. So if you’re supporting a parent with dementia from interstate, this is the stuff I’d want to know first.
I’m not a doctor or a dementia expert, and nothing here replaces proper advice.
Early signs of dementia that are easy to miss from interstate
The tricky thing about distance is that a short phone call is a pretty good place to hide. Plenty of people can hold it together for a quick chat about the weather and the grandkids. From what I can tell, the signs tend to show up in the things you only see in person: unopened bills on the kitchen bench, a fridge full of out-of-date food or a regular lunch with friends that’s quietly been dropped.
Those are the kinds of things I’d look out for. Repeating questions or stories. Losing track of appointments. Getting confused about money. Withdrawing from things they used to love. A change in personality, like a normally easygoing parent becoming suspicious or short-tempered. None of these on their own means dementia, and there are plenty of other causes worth ruling out, but a pattern is worth taking seriously.
It’s also more common than I’d realised. The AIHW estimates around 439,000 Australians were living with dementia in 2025, and about two in three of them live in the community rather than in residential care. In other words, a lot of people are at home, and I suspect a lot of families are guessing from a distance.
If you’ve noticed changes, the first step is a GP appointment for your parent. I’d suggest calling their GP’s clinic yourself (with your parent’s permission) and passing on what you’ve seen. Doctors only get a snapshot too, and they can’t act on what they don’t know.
Getting an aged care assessment through My Aged Care
This might be the most useful thing to know: you can do a lot of it from Melbourne. My Aged Care is a national system, so it doesn’t matter that you’re in Victoria and your parent is in Queensland.
Before your parent can get government-subsidised help, they need an assessment. You can apply online on their behalf with their permission, or call My Aged Care on 1800 200 422. My Aged Care recommends doing the application together, which seems easy enough over speakerphone if you can’t be in the same room.
An assessment organisation then contacts whoever you nominate to arrange the assessment, and most assessments happen at home. If you can, time a visit so you’re there for it. I think having someone in the room who’ll gently say “actually, Mum, you haven’t cooked a proper meal in weeks” makes a real difference to how accurate it is.
It’s also worth asking about becoming a registered supporter so My Aged Care can talk to you directly. When you’re interstate, not having to put your parent on the phone for every question is likely a small mercy.
Finding dementia support near your parent in Queensland
My first instinct would be to look for help in Melbourne, because that’s where I am. Which would be a bit like booking a plumber in Albert Park to fix a tap on the Gold Coast. The support that matters most is the support near your parent.
In Queensland, Alzheimer’s Queensland runs a free dementia helpline on 1800 639 331, staffed by people with nursing and health backgrounds. You don’t need a diagnosis to call, and it’s open to family members as well as the person living with dementia. I imagine it helps just to talk through what you’ve noticed with someone who’s heard it all before and won’t think you’re overreacting.
It’s also worth looking after yourself, which I think most of us are terrible at. Carer Gateway is a free national service for unpaid carers, with counselling, peer support groups and help arranging respite. You can call 1800 422 737. It’s easy not to think of yourself as a “carer” when you’re not the one there every day. I’m not sure that’s how it works, though. If you’re spending your lunch breaks on hold to a GP clinic in another state, you’re probably caring.
Finally, if your parent has a friend, neighbour or sibling nearby, loop them in early. A quick text saying “she’s fine, just forgot the bins again” might do more for your blood pressure than anything else.
Respite and residential dementia care in Queensland
Nobody wants to have the aged care conversation, and most families seem to put it off for longer than they should. But it’s much easier to look at options calmly before there’s a fall or a hospital stay forcing everyone’s hand.
Respite is a good place to start, and I think it’s underrated. It gives whoever is doing the day-to-day caring a proper break, and it lets your parent try a supported setting for a short stay without it feeling permanent. Depending on where your parent lives, that might be a few hours at a day centre, an overnight stay in a respite cottage or a short stay in an aged care home.
Whether it’s respite now or longer-term care later, I’d look for services where dementia is the core of what they do, not an add-on. If your parent is in Brisbane’s south, Alzheimer’s Queensland’s Garden City centre on Khandalla Street is a good example. It offers dementia respite and community support in Upper Mt Gravatt, from help at home and social outings to day, overnight and emergency respite, plus carer support groups for family members. Most people access these services through the Commonwealth Home Support Programme, which usually involves a small fee.
Whatever you’re considering, here’s the bit I’d stress for interstate families: visit in person if you possibly can, and take your parent if they’re up to it. Brochures and websites all look lovely. What you really want to know is how staff speak to residents, whether people look settled and whether you could picture your mum or dad there.
Making visits count from Melbourne
From what I’ve heard, it’s easy for a visit to turn into a weekend of admin. You arrive with a list of things to sort out, spend hours on hold and fly home having barely had a proper conversation. Your parent might even think you’ve come up to audit them.
If it were me, I’d split each trip into two halves. One half is admin: appointments, paperwork, checking the house is safe and the fridge isn’t a science experiment. The other half is just being their kid. A walk along the beach, a coffee at the café they’ve been going to for years, an afternoon looking at old photos. I think the second half matters more, and it’s often where you notice the most. You can learn a lot about how someone’s going from watching them order lunch.
Between visits, a regular video call helps. Seeing the kitchen behind them tells you more than “I’m fine, love” ever will. Some families set up a shared calendar or group chat with siblings and nearby friends so everyone knows who’s checked in and when. It sounds a bit corporate for family, I know, but it stops three people ringing on the same day and nobody ringing for a week.
Planning ahead with legal and financial paperwork
This is the boring bit, and I’d bet it’s the bit most families wish they’d done earlier.
An enduring power of attorney lets your parent choose someone they trust to make financial and personal decisions if they can no longer make them. The catch is timing. In Queensland, your parent needs to have capacity to understand the document when they sign it. If they lose capacity without one in place, a tribunal may need to appoint someone instead, which is slower and takes the choice out of your family’s hands.
A diagnosis doesn’t automatically mean it’s too late, but I wouldn’t wait to find out. It’s also worth talking about an advance health directive, so your parent’s wishes about future medical care are written down while they can still tell you what they are.
One thing that’s easy to miss: these documents are governed by state law, and Queensland and Victoria do things differently. The forms, witnessing rules and terminology aren’t the same. Your parent’s documents should follow the rules where they live, and if you’ve got questions about how they’ll work across state lines, a solicitor is worth the money. I’m not a lawyer, so treat this as a prompt to ask one rather than advice.
Is it worth getting support in place early?
Supporting a parent with dementia from another state is hard enough without scrambling when something goes wrong. If it were me, I’d get their GP involved early, sort the assessment and paperwork while there’s still time and find support near them rather than near me.
You can’t be there every day when your parent lives interstate. What you can do is get the right people around them and make the visits about them rather than the to-do list.
Are you supporting a parent from interstate? I’d be curious to hear what’s helped and what you wish you’d known sooner.
