This past week, as I threw away the sixteenth earring card (you know the little plastic thingy earrings are on when you buy them?) and multiple mismatched plastic containers and then discovered yet another box of family photographs, I realized how lucky I am.
“Lucky?” you say. Yes, lucky; lucky to be relocating my 90-year-old mom, Gladys, to St. George, Utah. Many never have the opportunity to enjoy parents who are in their ninth decade of life, but I can.
This August found my sister, Diane (who lives in North Carolina), and me exploring living options for Mom, who couldn’t safely return to her independent senior community following surgery. My parents moved into that community twelve years ago, and Mom often mentioned how grateful she was that they moved there together. It was close to where they lived, and family, friends and church were nearby. It was a perfect solution to no longer maintaining their home of the past twenty years; it offered new friendships, companionship, convenience and opportunities.
Mom quickly discovered that many of their new elderly neighbors had been unwillingly uprooted, relocating from homes in other parts of the country following a spouse’s death to make it easier for adult children to care for their parents. When my Dad—to whom she had been married for 67 years—died in March, many assumed my Mom would move closer to my sister or me, but she was determined to remain independent.
No longer able to walk, Mom uses a wheelchair, and Dad had been her legs and arms, particularly when it came to getting things out of high cupboards or from the back of the freezer. Life on her own required adaptations, such as hiring people to help with some of her activities of daily living. Fortunately such services were available, and she could stay in her home with few major changes. Mom missed Daddy, but she faced each day with her proverbial smile and continued to brighten the lives of those she met.
Then Diane got a call from Mom during “Jeopardy” that set the wheels of change in motion. Now, one thing you need to know about my mom is that no one calls her during that sacrosanct 30 minutes, and she phones no one. Diane was immediately concerned, and within three hours, Mom had been admitted to the hospital. Following surgery and inactivity for a week, it became apparent that it was time to write the next chapter in Gladys’ Book of Life.
Which brings me to why I’m lucky.
It’s bittersweet watching someone you love—especially elderly parents—realize that they are no longer capable of living independently. However, Mom is nothing if not pragmatic. Once the decision to move out of her apartment was made and we determined that moving closer to me was the best option, I began to realize how fortunate I am. Instead of lamenting that she was also being “uprooted and relocated” from her longtime surroundings, she’s excitedly looking forward to “Gladys’ Next Big Adventure.”
We’ve made arrangements for relocating her to an assisted living community here in St. George, which entails sorting, tossing (remember those 16 useless earring cards), recycling, sharing, laughing, crying, reminiscing, and most of all, learning even more about my mom’s amazing life.
When she asked how she was going to get to Utah—a trip of 1,900 miles—I replied, “We’re buying you a first class plane ticket.” If you’ve done your math, you know that Mom is a child of the Depression and would never book a first class ticket herself. Another new experience!
I’m grateful to have this remarkable woman in my life and I’m excited to introduce her to southern Utah. You’ll recognize her; she’s the one with the radiating smile and a twinkle in her eye.
A word of warning to her new friends at The Retreat at Sunbrook: She still plays a mean game of Scrabble!
When The Independent’s publisher, Josh Warburton, asked me to write for the Opinion section of the paper last spring, I was honored, but the time wasn’t right and I asked him to check with me later. I’m glad he called last week and that I could say “Yes!” I’ll be tapping out my thoughts every other week on a plethora of topics and look forward to hearing from you.
Do the adaptable live longer lives? Appears to be so!