Moving Day
If they live long enough, our parents will reach a stage in life where they can no longer take care of themselves. Some will have the resources to age in place with in-home care. Others will have invested in long-term care insurance so as not to be a burden on their children. Most, however, will assume someone else can handle that little detail – usually their adult children.
They believe that it’s a child’s duty to care for them as they did their parents, except their elders died much quicker, sparing them years and even decades of emotional, financial and physical hardship. Usually their parents' bodies gave out before their minds. It is much, much harder when it is the reverse – and for every community in every nation, the reverse is becoming the norm.
So it is that today our family entered yet another rite of passage that millions go through. We moved my grandmother into a senior living community. She’s currently on the independent living side, but I suspect she will move to assisted living before too long.
I caught her crying in the days leading up to this. I’d tell her to stop being so pessimistic and then we’d both boo hoo behind closed doors. The only salve was shopping … for her, not me. I sunk myself into my work and my back misery.
The transition went very well. We all caravanned in mini-vans holding her life’s possessions, half of which were purchased within the last month at Walmart, Target, Homegoods, Bed Bath & Beyond and garage sales. She'd saved the white elephant gift I got last Christmas, carefully wrapped with all of her religious relics. I hope that wasn't the best Christmas she remembers, because I got really pissy at some points.
Her tiny apartment and the entire complex are far nicer than she led me to believe, and issues like being far from the elevator and civilization were great exaggerated on her part. Her neighbors are quite friendly – I hope that rubs off on her. Right now she insists she’ll never leave her apartment. I give her til Monday at most.
I should also note that I went for my first walk this morning, which for me is a big deal. It hurt after 30 minutes or so, but the pain in my hindquarters soon passed. The pain in my heart might take a little longer.
They believe that it’s a child’s duty to care for them as they did their parents, except their elders died much quicker, sparing them years and even decades of emotional, financial and physical hardship. Usually their parents' bodies gave out before their minds. It is much, much harder when it is the reverse – and for every community in every nation, the reverse is becoming the norm.
So it is that today our family entered yet another rite of passage that millions go through. We moved my grandmother into a senior living community. She’s currently on the independent living side, but I suspect she will move to assisted living before too long.
I caught her crying in the days leading up to this. I’d tell her to stop being so pessimistic and then we’d both boo hoo behind closed doors. The only salve was shopping … for her, not me. I sunk myself into my work and my back misery.
The transition went very well. We all caravanned in mini-vans holding her life’s possessions, half of which were purchased within the last month at Walmart, Target, Homegoods, Bed Bath & Beyond and garage sales. She'd saved the white elephant gift I got last Christmas, carefully wrapped with all of her religious relics. I hope that wasn't the best Christmas she remembers, because I got really pissy at some points.
Her tiny apartment and the entire complex are far nicer than she led me to believe, and issues like being far from the elevator and civilization were great exaggerated on her part. Her neighbors are quite friendly – I hope that rubs off on her. Right now she insists she’ll never leave her apartment. I give her til Monday at most.
I should also note that I went for my first walk this morning, which for me is a big deal. It hurt after 30 minutes or so, but the pain in my hindquarters soon passed. The pain in my heart might take a little longer.
