Well, the usual May blizzard of time-consuming commitments has left me not posting anything for three weeks straight!

 

Everything is good in Gordland . . . just busy. And the aging in-laws are moving back home and out of their "insisted living" arrangement.

Full Moon coming.

Friday evening.

Flower Moon.

For obvious reasons.

Just look around.

As promised (last time) here is a continuation of the Adventures in Aging. My in-laws are experimenting with Insisted Living a few miles away from their ordinary home.

 

They don't like it.

 

They promised to give it a try for a month, but it is turning out that their "try" is basically consisting of hunkering down in their unit and not interacting with anyone unless they have to. Such as meal times. Which they don't like.

 

Beautiful Spouse's Mom doesn't feel that they need to be there at all. Of course, if she could remember that she was in the hospital two weeks ago that might help her to see the reality of their situation. Beautiful Spouse's Dad on the other hand is being more strategic and is just trying to tough out the month, so that they can go "home." He feels that once they get "home" they'll be fine. He cannot remember his doctor's appointments, or how to manage his diabetes numbers. They haven't paid their own bills, or shopped for groceries on their own for a couple of years now, but he feels that they'll be just fine.

 

Their four "kids" (ages ranging from 42 to 56) have been trying to convince Mom and Dad that the move is for the best anyway, plus there really isn't a good alternative. Since their doctor advised them that they shouldn't live on their own anymore because they cannot take care of themselves, the number of options is limited to moving in with one of the kids (all are married and have houses with stairs) or finding an appropriate senior facility that they can afford. Plus they have their dog and would like to keep him.

 

The "experimental" month has a long way to go. Tomorrow will make one week.

My in-laws are at that . . . Age.

 

I suppose we will all get there sooner or later. Or at least I hope so, because the only alternative? Really not much better. They are at the age where instead of finishing each others' sentences, they just leave them trailing out there, sometimes with the intent to get back to them later. The age where the medications take up more kitchen space than the food. The age where you not only forget what you were talking about, you even forget that you forgot.

 

They are 83, and moving into a new building. It is in a facility  called . . . "Insisted Living." This is because if you don't come down for a meal, someone will come and knock on your door. They take out your garbage for you every day. They come in and vacuum and dust. They will do your laundry for you.

 

At first they fought this. "We're fine! We're fine! We're doing just fine!" However when both ended up in the hospital at the same time, then went to rehab for a week, then were ready to be released, the question was, Where are they going? Home to their townhouse that has stairs, three bathrooms to keep clean, and a refrigerator full of food going quickly out-of-code? Or: to one of their three daughter's houses, all of whom live in the area, but none of whom want to file for divorces just yet?

 

Or: moving into a nice two-bedroom unit with kitchenette (put the accent on the "ette") and (this was key) a policy that allows "small dogs." Fortunately for all concerned, it turned out that this facility is measuring "smallness of dog" by height off the ground and not by gross body weight. Because he is a basset, so he stands about nine inches off the ground and weighs somewhere near 225. I'm not sure, I haven't picked him up in a long time. No one has.

 

Here is how the arrangements work out: they have two bedrooms, each of which has full bath. Mom-and-Dad-in-law share one bedroom, the dog has the other one. His night cage fits nicely into the oversized shower unit wit built-in sprayer. (He might be in for more baths than usual. This is not a bad thing.) Each room is equipped with a little pull-cord for Emergencies. He hasn't learned how to pull these yet.

 

The rest of their unit consists of a single central room that has space for living-room furniture, plus one wall with cabinets, a medium-size frig, a sink, and a microwave on a shelf. It is actually scaled and layed out a bit like their vacation cabin's kitchen used to look. Back when they had a vacation cabin. No oven or range, which they don't use anymore anyway. (Sometimes they'll make soup from a can and that is about all the cooking they have been doing over the past year or so. Which was one of the issues). (But just one.)

 

So we had a big moving day with lots of relatives volunteering, and a real rental truck for furniture. As far as moving OUT: each room of their townhouse has walls covered with wallpaper (in attractive patterns) and then with framed items. Approximately 25 to 30 framed items. Per room. Their dining room alone has 46 decorative plates mounted on the walls. I counted them. We decided that the "small items" would be left for another day, and we would just move the "big stuff" that requires a truck and some moving power.

 

We ended up moving their queen-sized bed, a large dresser, a few clothes, enough kitchen items that you could have toast and coffee (or some soup) without having to go to the dining facility. And enough living-room furniture to be comfortable sitting around in the main space.

 

All this moving was accomplished with the two of them standing in the middle of the rooms watching everything going on. Eventually they ended up pretty confused about what was moved and what wasn't and where it is going. Their townhouse included a living room on the main floor and a smaller loft space upstairs where they have had their TV and sitting chairs. As they have become less mobile over the past year or two they have stayed in that space ("the den") more and more. However in choosing what items they want moved they decided to bring some of their lving room's "good furniture" as well. So, now their Insisted Living apartment has a mixture of the two rooms.

 

Mom-in-law has a bunch of paraphanalia including a strong lamp, and a little storage case with scissors and implements. These are for doing needlework, mainly counted cross-stitch (which she really can't do anymore), but which Dad-in-law refers to as her "sewing stuff." Once the living rooom chairs were in place he wanted her sewing stuff to be put "in the bedroom," by which he meant their loft den, which used to be upstairs by their bedroom, but which they don't have anymore. (The reason he was hospitalized this month was because he needed shoulder surgery from using his left arm to help pull himself upstairs on unsteady legs, so the lack of an upstairs is really one of the biggest advantages to Insisted Living.)

 

So the move OUT was completed. The move IN was completed. Then two days after moving IN, they decided that they are moving OUT again.

 

(to be continued)