When your parents get old
Being the son of two elderly parents, I could see my father having more and more difficulty in getting around, doing his normal routine of chores. My mother as well got around with a walker, having mobility issues, and her strength in her arms and hands had faded away in the past 14 years or so.
This was wearing heavy on my heart, and in my soul.
Your parents are your rock, that is, if they were good to you when raising you. Advice, support, and comfort. Stories and conversations about things, new and old. Things that I would surely miss, if they were not there all of a sudden.
Now, my dad is in the hospital. I do not believe he will be well enough to come home. My mom, well, she has mobility issues. My personal life, family life here, is too busy for me to bring her into my own place. I wish I could, but the reality is she may have to go to a seniors home.
For years I got their groceries, did their doctor appointments, got their prescriptions, clothes, the odd meal, and even cleaned their house at times. I got them a worker one time, but it did not work out. I tried to get another worker, but they refused. What can you do?
My help all worked, until now. It gave them another 10 plus or more years to live in that wonderful old house, at the corner of the road. I guess it was worth something, after all. That is what all that mattered to me.
I did not mind, taking time from my family, my leisure time to help them. I loved having a beer with my father, and conversing with my mother about the goings on in around the place.
Now I have to make some tough decisions. This is the reason I was not around that much as of late, and the work on Part 4 has taken a hit. This process is going to unwind slowly, painfully, and I did feel intense pain at the first start of the whole thing. Still do.
Till next time....