After my dear Mother, Adeline, died suddenly at age 82 from a massive cerebral hemorrhage in July of 2002, my dear Father, Reuben, was despondent and inconsolable. My three brothers and I offered to have Daddy live with one of us. He adamantly refused saying, "I gotta be near my doctors." Now, Daddy lived in San Antonio, Texas, I lived in Lexington, Kentucky, and my brothers lived even farther away. We all worked and couldn't jump a plane to Texas at the drop of a hat. Keep in mind, Daddy was 88 years old. He lived in an apartment in a high-rise retirement condo.
We all visited about every other month except for Don who lived out of the country. We talked frequently. Fast forward to March of the following year. Daddy fell and broke his hip! After hospitalization, Daddy was sent for rehab to the fine nursing home attached to the retirement building.
Meanwhile, Daddy was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Now we begged Daddy to come live with one of us. Daddy again refused, "I gotta be near my doctors." We continued to visit. It was more apparent with every visit that Daddy's memory was fast fading.
On a lighter note, one time I was visiting Daddy in the nursing home with Daughter #7, Marie. Daddy thought I was Mother and that Marie was me. He kept asking me, "What time is it?" I pointed to the digital clock built in to the side of his bed. He kept on asking the same thing. Then it dawned on me, "Daddy doesn't recognize the digital clock. He needs an old-fashioned clock with a circular face, numbers 1 to 12, and two hands." So I took off my nursing watch (push a button and it lights up so I don't have to turn on big lights in a patient's room) and put it on Daddy's skinny little wrist. "Look, Daddy, now you can tell time even at night." And I showed him how to make it light up.
Daddy immediately pulled his covers totally covering his head. I heard lots of giggling! Daddy was playing with the watch!
I felt that Daddy was getting close to coming to live with me. Except that Daddy came down with pneumonia and died. He was 89 years old.
When Mom and Dad decided their big home in Chesapeake, Virginia, was too big, Dad research every retirement facility in the country, he said. They picked the one in San Antonio because it was for retired military, which he was, a retired Army Lieutenant Colonel. Daddy said, "We're only a plane ride away." THAT was their mistake, a large mistake! (Note: none of us was consulted about this decision; we were informed, as we had been all our lives.)
It's my opinion, as a former nursing home nurse, and as a daughter, that elderly people NEED to be CLOSE TO FAMILY! It was all well and good that for several years after they moved, they would travel by air to see all of us. Then they announced, "It's too hard for us to travel; if you want to see us, you'll have to come to us." We could have done so much to help them if they had lived closer - to one of us! We all had good doctors in our cities, also!! Yet it was not to be.
All of my friends who have living parents have helped them out in many ways with shopping, errands, transportation - anything and everything. That's a natural progression of life. Perhaps the time may come when any one of us need to leave our homes and either live with a relative or even in a nursing home. We need to not be stubborn and refuse to do so! I'll never know if one or both of my parents would have lived longer if they had lived in the same town as one of their four children. But, odds are, we could have helped them live longer. What will you do?
Lord God, we want to do our best to honor and love our parents. Help us - and them - know when the time is right to give them more help.
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