Meloncholia

So, we went on vacation for a week. That was nice. Got away. Felt like old times. Thought about the folks a little, but I'll be honest - not a lot. And still, while we were gone, Hubby was on the phone with a government agency questioning more of Mom and Dad's bills. I could hear the frustration and concern in his voice. The finances never seem to be the easy part. Seriously, people. Start stockpiling money NOW. Being old is a pricey proposition...at best. A financial juggernaut the size and effect of the Hindenberg and the Titanic all rolled up in one.

Yesterday, I knew I had to call Mom and check in. Asked her if everything was going OK. I was stupid enough to let myself imagine that she'd respond "Oh, everything is great!"

Nope.

Instead, I got a litany of mild to moderate complaints. Here, in no particular order are the things that are of concern to Mom:

- Mom and Dad miss their house...a lot.
- The Assisted Living staff is constantly changing. Mom said the nurses are different every day.
- The generic "Depends" I bought her are terrible.
- Mom and Dad want soup and crackers...because dinners aren't good there.
- They probably can't even vote...or don't know where/how to vote.
- Dad has lots of questions about money, etc. We need to talk to him.
- Mom saw another resident's apartment and it has VALANCES. Clearly, that's the secret to making these apartments look like a home. Apparently, their apartment feels like crap in comparison. (Yes, I inserted adjectives in there.) 
- There are rumors of two new couples moving in. She said this in a negative tone...as if this will upset their life in some way.

Honestly, it was a very depressing conversation. I tried my best to let Mom vent. After all, who else can she really talk to? If she's afraid to air her grievances with me, she'll just bottle it up and feel guilty. But it made me feel TERRIBLE. I felt like I was holding them prisoner in this gawdawful place.

I reminded her of why they were there and how I wished I could do something...anything to let them live in their home, but it's not possible. She understood, but I could tell that there was this lingering pall over their life.

Really, this shouldn't be a huge surprise to me. At some point, reality was going to hit them and they would have this melancholy stage. I just underestimated how much I would feel it as well.

A test we'll eventually fail.

"This has been a test of the Emergency Elder Care System." It works.

Last night, I was sitting on the couch, watching TV when the caller ID flashed the name of my parents' Assisted Living facility. "Uh oh," I said. It's the call you don't want, but you have to take.

Turns out, Dad was reaching to close the blinds in the apartment, lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. He didn't hurt himself but he couldn't get up....much like had happened many times before when my parents lived alone.

Fortunately, my Mom or Dad pulled the little cord thingy on the wall and somebody came to help him up. They also took his vital signs to make sure he was OK. Then I was called...twice. Once last night and once this morning. It was reassuring to know that everybody was OK and they had survived this incident.

Phew....sort of.

See, the thing is, although I'm totally relieved that Dad fell in a place that is safe and where they were there to pick him up, the problem is that he still fell. And when will he fall and hurt himself? I know it will happen...eventually. No, I'm not being all Negative Nancy, I'm being Realistic Rita. Because here's the cold, hard truth about all of our parents - Eventually, they will fail. I know it. You know it. We all know it. The question really becomes: Who will be there to pick them up and what's the next step?

No news is good news

It's been way too long since I've posted - over a week - and I know what you're thinking: "Out of sight, out of mind." Well, I admit, that's KIND of true. Now that the parents are in the assisted living facility, I do admit to selfishly enjoying every single damn moment of the empty nest. Dang, this is nice. I love everything about it - making plans with Hubby, NOT making dinner, rarely grocery shopping, coming and going when I please. I admit it, I'm one selfish person. But at least I admit it, right?

Back at the assisted facility, Mom and Dad are adjusting nicely. Is it perfect? No. Apparently Mom gets awakened every morning at 6am to get some of her medication. I guess it's a little unnerving that they just walk into the apartment. Then again, they do this so that some time passes between the time she gets her medication and the time that she eats. Her at our house, she'd simply sit around and not eat for a while. They have a schedule. They can't be feeding people at all times of the day. I'm sure my parents don't love that their meal times are rarely if ever changed, but then again, it's something stable and constant which, in elder care, is really important.

Then there's the food. I've basically been avoiding the topic with my parents. Not that I don't care, but because I can't fix it. I can't change it. It is what it is. Yes, I wish that they loved it, but they don't. They don't hate it, but it's not the be-all, end-all. Mom basically says,"It's not bad, but there's just something missing." So instead, I'm trying to sneak them out for some meals at restaurants when I can. Today, for instance, Hubby and I are taking them to dinner at a nice steak place near them. I'm kind of excited and they are too! Mom asked me when I called her about it: "Are you sure you want to come down here today?" Isn't she too sweet? She also said: "That will really be a treat for us!" Man, if I can make somebody's day by taking them to dinner, life is pretty damn good.

On the negative side, we're having some family fireworks. My sister and I are thick as thieves. We stay connected and work together as much as possible. My brother is another story. I don't want to air the family dirty laundry, but we are no way on the same page. We're not even in the same book. He's frustrated and feeling guilty because he can't do as much to contribute to the cause and so he's flipping things around and making my sister and I feel like we did something wrong. It's maddening. I feel angry and frustrated myself. My first instinct is to lash out at him, but I know, deep down, that won't help anything. I have to swallow my pride and fix it. It's what I do. I'm kind of the family fixer. (I'm a Libra - it's a genetic thing.) The problem is, I'm not sure it can be fixed. But here's the thing: What matters more than anything else to my parents is that we kids get along. It's all they care about. Damn, this is hard.

So that's an update. Nothing special. Nothing earth-shattering, but that's actually good. No news is actually good news.