My Mom’s coming to visit…

LGOberean

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…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.

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LGOberean

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Does the garage apartment have stairs? That's often a deal-killer for elder habitation.

There's two steps up to the third "step" or landing to the apartment's entrance. I'll be walking Mom up and down the steps while she's here. If she comes to live with us, we'll install a new step system with handrails.
 

LGOberean

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Thanks for the share. Hope the visit goes extremely well and you make good memories. Have fun and play some music, I bet she is proud of your talent.

Thanks. I'd like to think she's proud of me. What musical talent I have is owing to my parents, both in terms of nature and nurture. Dad played guitar and sang, Mom sang with her twin sister in a trio before she ever met my Dad in college. For a decade before I took up the guitar myself, I learned to sing from church and listening to them singing together in the evenings. My younger brother was also a guitar player, and before he passed we'd always get together and jam in Mom's living room. This visit will definitely involve some pickin' ang grinnin'.
 

LGOberean

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What a pretty lady.

Pretty lady...

Yeah, what happened to me, right? There's a reason I hide my face behind a bush of whiskers.

In the looks department, me and my brothers took after my Dad. A few years ago, I ran into an old friend of my parents in a local restaurant. He came up to our table and asked me, "Which one of Harlan's boys are you?" The last time I'd seen that man, I didn't have a beard, much less a completely gray one. I was amazed he recognized me at all. But me and my brothers have Dad's eyes.
 

kuch

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Great Northwest
Good for you and your wife to being willing to take on the responsibility for your mom.

I would suggest that you show her the town and maybe some amenities that would appeal to her. Like maybe a community center where she can participate in "silver sneakers" or a church that she might want to attend. Take her shopping with you and make her feel comfortable in being a "participant" in your lives and not a guest.

good luck with her visit and I hope it goes well. :)
 

Toto'sDad

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When he was ten years old, my best little golfing buddy heard a gun go off and ran into the house and found his daddy dead by his own hand in the living room. When you think you've had a bad childhood try that one of for size. He's turned out relatively well, but only really came to terms with that event in the last few years, he's SEVENTY-FOUR years old.
 

David Barnett

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There's two steps up to the third "step" or landing to the apartment's entrance. I'll be walking Mom up and down the steps while she's here. If she comes to live with us, we'll install a new step system with handrails.

That's not so bad then. "Garage apartment" had given me the mental image of a 2nd FL over the garage. Three steps to get in is a lot less daunting than a whole flight of stairs.
 

LGOberean

Doctor of Teleocity
Joined
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Posts
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Age
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Corpus Christi, Texas
When he was ten years old, my best little golfing buddy heard a gun go off and ran into the house and found his daddy dead by his own hand in the living room. When you think you've had a bad childhood try that one of for size. He's turned out relatively well, but only really came to terms with that event in the last few years, he's SEVENTY-FOUR years old.
Enjoy your mother while you can. I lost my father when I was 22. Make it special!

WOW! Yeah, life's kicked me in the teeth a few times, and I've lost loved ones. But I know I had a good childhood. I've long realized that I am blessed beyond anything I'll ever deserve. Even losing my Dad young to cancer (as I said earlier), I treasure the relationship we had, and the impact he still has on my life.
 

teleplayr

Friend of Leo's
Joined
Feb 7, 2012
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2,295
Location
Nicoma Park, Oklahoma
…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.

View attachment 1045138 View attachment 1045139


Twins !
 




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