LGOberean
Doctor of Teleocity
…and it’s kind of a big deal.
For starters, she’s 90. She’s healthy, but she’s not the active, hard-working, vital person she was even a decade ago.
Up until thirteen months ago, she lived on her own, on our family property that once was a working farm. Then she got the—oops, can’t say that…uh, you know, the thing—that everyone’s lived in fear of. For her to get it at 89 years of age was no trivial matter, but thankfully she never even had to be admitted to the hospital, just one trip to the ER.
But she was fatigued for months afterward, and to hear my sister Kathy tell it, she still will sleep all day if you let her. (Kathy may be right, but I'm anxious to see for myself.) From that day to the present, she’s lived with Kathy. And speaking of my sister, I love her. She’s family. She’s been taking care of Mom for over a year now (she lives in the same town as Mom, whereas I live 375 miles away). But she’s also flighty, and trying to make and coordinate plans with her is devilish hard. So arranging for Mom to come for a visit was a big deal/ordeal.
My wife and I have a garage apartment that we now use as our Airbnb for supplemental income. Decades ago, our son lived in the apartment. Then it became a guest house for friends and family when they visited.
Including Mom. My Dad moved his family of five to Corpus in 1968, and after eleven years, with just my sister still living at home (she’s eleven years younger than me), they moved away, eventually settling on the farm property Dad was raised on (after building a new home after the old house burned). Dad died of cancer in 1989, and so from 1979 to 2005, Mom had not been back to Corpus. That last visit 17 years ago this past August was the last time she came down.
Mom’s a homebody. She’s very shy, to begin with, so she didn’t get out much even before getting sick and living with my sister. As a girl, she was raised in an orphanage during the depression. When she married Dad in 1951, the farm (a 210-acre working farm back then) was like Eden. And my paternal grandfather was the only Dad she’d ever know. So living up there in a small farming community outside of Granbury, Texas is most definitely home to her and holds lots of fond memories.
Back when it was first determined that Mom should no longer live alone, my wife and I offered to have her live with us. We were and still are willing to take our apartment off the Airbnb market and let Mom live out her years with us here. She was grateful for the offer but refused it, because she just loved “the farm” and her little church and small community.
So for the time, this upcoming visit is just a visit. But my wife and I are still open to it being more. We’ll see…
Almost every time I post something on TDPRI, it occurs to me that “there is nothing new under the sun,” and that my fellow TDPRI brethren (and sistren) likely have had similar life experiences. Feel free to share your stories on how you’ve navigated the tricky waters of caring for aging parents.
Oh, and I guess I'll be posting pics in a subsequent thread after her visit. “Pics or it didn't happen,” you know. In the meantime, here are two of the most recent pics of Mom I have. The first is on May 17, 2017, with Mom at 85 years of age holding a picture of her twin sister at my aunt's memorial service. The second is a pic of the two of them together from the year before, when my wife took them out to eat on their birthday in the town of Granbury.
For starters, she’s 90. She’s healthy, but she’s not the active, hard-working, vital person she was even a decade ago.
Up until thirteen months ago, she lived on her own, on our family property that once was a working farm. Then she got the—oops, can’t say that…uh, you know, the thing—that everyone’s lived in fear of. For her to get it at 89 years of age was no trivial matter, but thankfully she never even had to be admitted to the hospital, just one trip to the ER.
But she was fatigued for months afterward, and to hear my sister Kathy tell it, she still will sleep all day if you let her. (Kathy may be right, but I'm anxious to see for myself.) From that day to the present, she’s lived with Kathy. And speaking of my sister, I love her. She’s family. She’s been taking care of Mom for over a year now (she lives in the same town as Mom, whereas I live 375 miles away). But she’s also flighty, and trying to make and coordinate plans with her is devilish hard. So arranging for Mom to come for a visit was a big deal/ordeal.
My wife and I have a garage apartment that we now use as our Airbnb for supplemental income. Decades ago, our son lived in the apartment. Then it became a guest house for friends and family when they visited.
Including Mom. My Dad moved his family of five to Corpus in 1968, and after eleven years, with just my sister still living at home (she’s eleven years younger than me), they moved away, eventually settling on the farm property Dad was raised on (after building a new home after the old house burned). Dad died of cancer in 1989, and so from 1979 to 2005, Mom had not been back to Corpus. That last visit 17 years ago this past August was the last time she came down.
Mom’s a homebody. She’s very shy, to begin with, so she didn’t get out much even before getting sick and living with my sister. As a girl, she was raised in an orphanage during the depression. When she married Dad in 1951, the farm (a 210-acre working farm back then) was like Eden. And my paternal grandfather was the only Dad she’d ever know. So living up there in a small farming community outside of Granbury, Texas is most definitely home to her and holds lots of fond memories.
Back when it was first determined that Mom should no longer live alone, my wife and I offered to have her live with us. We were and still are willing to take our apartment off the Airbnb market and let Mom live out her years with us here. She was grateful for the offer but refused it, because she just loved “the farm” and her little church and small community.
So for the time, this upcoming visit is just a visit. But my wife and I are still open to it being more. We’ll see…
Almost every time I post something on TDPRI, it occurs to me that “there is nothing new under the sun,” and that my fellow TDPRI brethren (and sistren) likely have had similar life experiences. Feel free to share your stories on how you’ve navigated the tricky waters of caring for aging parents.
Oh, and I guess I'll be posting pics in a subsequent thread after her visit. “Pics or it didn't happen,” you know. In the meantime, here are two of the most recent pics of Mom I have. The first is on May 17, 2017, with Mom at 85 years of age holding a picture of her twin sister at my aunt's memorial service. The second is a pic of the two of them together from the year before, when my wife took them out to eat on their birthday in the town of Granbury.
