Where to put your elderly parent: your home or care home?

SONY DSCSome people call us saints. Some people call us crazy. The fact is, we are just doing what many families do—being there for each other.

I’ll be sixty in November. My husband started collecting Social Security last year. He decided to take it early, at sixty-two. Our eldest celebrated his 35th birthday this week—making me feel even older.

It’s been years since one of our two kids lived with us. Both are married and doing exceedingly well in their careers. Our daughter is a talented graphic designer and our son just received another promotion in management with the company he works for.

Unlike some people we know, who complain about their adult kids moving back home, or having to help raise their grandchildren, we haven’t had those problems. We’ve been blessed with self sufficient, hard working children.

This doesn’t mean Don and I can take off and enjoy our golden years. Did I mention our mothers live with us? Both of them. His and mine. The ladies are each 86 years old. Now you understand what I meant about saints and crazy.

After we moved into this house we added a sitting area to one of the bedrooms, where my mother resides. A couple of years ago we built a guest house on our property for my mother-in-law. Fortunately the ladies are relatively healthy and are capable of taking care of their personal needs, however they no longer drive.

While both ladies are for now self sufficient, the situation has significantly clipped our wings. Don and I long to sell the house and move closer to our kids, but we can’t see how to maneuver such a move without displacing the moms.

Last month Don ended up in the hospital with an infection in his artificial knee. The knee was not the culprit, just where the infection settled. After emergency surgery, Don had to undergo six weeks of in-home IV treatment, which I administered.

The medical ordeal was a wakeup call—reminding us how quickly the years are slipping by. We’ve been spending the last few weeks trying to figure out how to enjoy our years, while not abandoning our mothers.

One option is purchasing an RV—something that will enable Don and me to escape for weeks at a time, and then return to home base and check on the moms, before taking off again.

Let’s see if we can pull this off.

(Photo: MIL cottage under construction 2012)

The Fine Art of Tea Parties

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Our daughter’s family recently returned from Kodiak, Alaska after living there for three years. Her husband is in the Coast Guard and was transferred back to California. Don and I planned to drive up and see them last week—them meaning our daughter, son-in-law and our two beautiful grandchildren, Addison (4 years) and Evan (17 months).

Plans changed abruptly when my husband went in for emergency surgery on June 6, due to an infection that settled in his artificial knee. Since then we’ve been housebound in Arizona as he undergoes 6-weeks of intense in-home IV treatment.

Yesterday my daughter posted a video on my Facebook wall. It’s our granddaughter who has been crying…crying for Grandma Bobbi. In the video when our daughter asks Addison why she has been crying, our granddaughter says, “’Cause I wanna see her at her house and have a tea party…”

I will confess, I have watched that video more than a dozen times already. You see, Addison and I have an honored tradition of having tea parties. For me it started with her mother, when Elizabeth was just a little girl. We’d dress up in fancy hats and I’d bring out the good china and we’d enjoy a beverage that wasn’t quite tea, but was poured from a tea pot.

Last Christmas the kids were able to come to Havasu for New Years. While visiting, Addison had several tea parties, not just with Grandma Bobbi – but with Grandma Bobbi and her GGs – code name for my mother and Don’s – the great-grandmas.

For this grandma, tea parties are a special tradition–one I hope Addison doesn’t soon outgrow.

Photo: Granddaughter Addison with GG Caroline (My mom)

Easter Bonnets and other fashion traditions…

Walt EditEnd of an era…

The other night as we were having dinner and discussing Easter—which was just a few days away—my mother made some quip about the Easter bonnet. From there we got to talking about other fashion trends, such as white gloves, that used to be a must-have in a proper young lady’s wardrobe. It was something we always wore (or carried) to church.

But they just weren’t worn to church, which is illustrated by this photograph taken in 1967. That’s my sister and I with our dad on Father’s Day, and I think we were on the way to brunch, not church. Note both Lynn and I have white gloves in hand.

The necessity of gloves is mentioned in Little Women—which make me feel incredibly old when I realize I share something with the March girls that I don’t share with my daughter.

But it isn’t just gloves that went out of fashion. Go to church these days and female parishioners haven’t just abandoned gloves—they’re often wearing casual slacks—even shorts, instead of dresses.

There was also a time we dressed up when flying. I remember the first time I went to Hawaii, back in 1973, one of the outfits I bought for my trip was for traveling. When I was a girl and my parents took trips to Vegas, they dressed up. That’s just what people did back then.

Today is Easter Sunday. I’m not a church goer—yet my mother-in-law faithfully attends services at her Episcopal Church every Sunday. I will have to ask her when she gets home if the congregation dressed up today. Were there little girls in frilly new dresses and did anyone have on an Easter bonnet?

I just noticed something else about the photograph—Dad was wearing a tie. While men still wear ties, they wear them on far less occasions today.

Wishing you all a happy and blessed Easter—be it casual or formal.