A Daughter’s Story: Reflections on Moving Mom into Assisted Living

Hello Blog!  It’s been a minute.  Everything I have read about having a successful blog explains that consistency is the most important aspect of maintaining followers.  I can attest to this theory because I gained some serious momentum when I started posting once or twice a week. Regrettably, I have faltered lately, and hope I am not writing into the abyss with this post.  I won’t make excuses for my lapse in writing.  Perhaps no one other than myself is concerned with it anyway.  But I have been a little lost in dealing with something these past months.  And although I knew I wanted to write about it, I knew it would be daunting.  

I recently took a trip back to my hometown of  Wichita.  Unfortunately, this visit back home was not my usual bi-yearly trip to spend leisurely time with family members and old friends. Over the past year or so, it became increasingly apparent that my mother was struggling to live independently.  Yet another fall in her home brought us to the task of looking for the best assisted living situation where she could get the care she needed.  After some very stressful months, we settled her into a place that we believe will suit her needs.  I helped in the process as much as possible while living a thousand miles away and although I have 3 sisters in Wichita, the majority has fallen upon the youngest for whom I am forever indebted.  So, I went to see my mother in her new assisted living facility, help clear out her previous home, and close the door on that part of her life.

It was bittersweet going through her house. Looking at old photo albums and recalling the family dynamics as they once were. There were old black-and-white photos of stoic-looking ancestors, stills of childhood vacations shot with a Polaroid instant camera, and joyful holiday get-togethers with all of the cousins at the time my kids were growing up. So many things throughout the house, big and small, that defined her life just a short time before. It looked as though she wasn’t considering leaving any time soon although it was surely in the back of her mind. With luggage space and weight limitations, I returned home with only a few items that felt special to me in some way.

The experience left me thinking a lot about my family and the passage of time.  It’s so strange to think about the human life cycle and where we fall within it.  My mom at 89 years old and my youngest granddaughter just nearing two.  A life lived and a life to be lived, with the rest of us somewhere in between.  Seeing my family grow is one of the most rewarding things about being a parent.  I love watching my children having their children and bringing the joy of grandchildren into my life. I know this to be the natural cycle of life and accept it as part of the aging process.  But at the same time, as the years passed I was faced with the reality of my aging parent.  It’s unsettling as the roles reverse. Realizing that the one who cared for me as a child must now rely on her kids for help in care.  Although, I knew it was to come, when it did I was caught off guard.  I lost my dad 31 years ago when he was only 65.  And while this was way too early to lose him, I never had to see him as elderly or unable to care for himself.  If there is a silver lining to a situation so traumatic, I suppose it would be that.  

One of the benefits of getting older is that we finally know exactly who we are and our individual limitations.  This process taught me that I would not be a good caretaker for the elderly, even my own mother.  And that’s okay. I understand that it doesn’t mean I care less.  I have felt a hint of judgment by some who have asked why she wasn’t going to live with me or one of my sisters.  This is a very personal decision and a demanding undertaking that few of us are really equipped to handle.  Taking in an elderly person is not just a matter of giving them a place to live.  In many cases, it involves helping them physically in day-to-day life or some level of medical care.  No one should be made to feel regret or guilt regarding these tough choices. Regardless of the direction taken with a parent who is unable to care for themselves, it is a difficult journey.  There are so many factors that come into play which include their emotional and financial readiness for this next step, both challenges in our case.   I will say that  I have had some faith in humanity restored along the way.  Some wonderful people stepped in to help with information and guidance expecting no monetary gain for themselves.  There are still good folks out there who genuinely care. 

I have also started to think more about my own mortality.  It’s an inescapable fact that my generation is next up.  Am I prepared for what will inevitably come with old age?  Of course, it is an ongoing process.  I will have to adapt and make adjustments as needed, taking into account changing needs and circumstances.  I pray that I will never be a burden on my kids.  I want to be ready when the time comes for me to consider long-term care options.  Whether it is aging in place, an assisted living community, or a nursing home I have worked towards having strategies in place to cover costs associated with potential future care needs.  What is it they say?  Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.   In the meantime, I am doing as much as I can to stay healthy and happy for as long as possible by focusing on maintaining a healthy lifestyle, staying mentally active, and keeping socially connected