So we took Papaw up to the nursing home yesterday and got him checked it. He didn’t really understand what was going on, even though both Joey and I talked to him about it. But when they got ready to wheel him in, and he realized we weren’t going in too, he was like “Where are y’all going? What’s going on?” I explained that we were going out of town for a while and that we didn’t want to leave him home alone. And these people would be taking care of him while we were gone. The lady pushing his chair said something like “We are going to take good care of you” and he started smiling and they took him on in.
Joey called this morning to check on him and they said he was doing fine.
We are driving to Ark today to get furniture for my parents. It was such a relief to leave the house this morning without having to feel worried/guilty for leaving Pap alone. Just knowing he has people looking after him all day and night feels like we did the right thing.
We met all the people who will be in charge of his care. They really seemed like caring people.
I was not sure that Joey was going to be able to go through with it, but he said he felt much better after meeting with the team of caretakers. And after he called this morning and checked on him, he felt even better.
My cousin Donna sent me that text this morning. Her pain, their pain, dripped slowly down my cheeks as I read. You don’t need the background to understand, but let me fill in just a bit.
Donna’s father-in-law, my Uncle Joe, has lived with them for 5 years. He has macular degeneration, major hearing loss, and Alzheimer’s with its relatively advanced mental and physical dysfunctions. They could no longer safely care for Papaw in their home.
My cousins, Donna and Joey, are driving to Arkansas to help her parents move back to their Mississippi hometown, to an apartment. Her mother has moderate Alzheimer’s and her formerly independent father recently fell and can’t handle all the responsibilities alone anymore.
Many of you reading this have similar stories, different details. We could write tomes about growing old and helping others grow old. (And I might.)
For now, Papaw’s story is enough.
Twists and Turns 