Letter From Home 10/29/09

James and I finally made the decision. 

In the end it was made silently in each of our minds Wednesday while we were outside; James planting more bulbs for spring while I was raking the maple tree leaves that covered the lawn.  Under gray skies we were silent as we worked while ruminating on the facts that had been in front of  us for months.  Once back  in the house we gave voice to our thoughts.  We decided that it was time to have our friend with Alzheimer’s placed into an assisted living facility.

It was not a decision that was made in haste, or without much research and reflection.

The day was one we knew would come at some point.  But as friends who wished to see this elderly man have as much independence for as long as possible it was a hard decision to finally make.  But as his power-of-attorneys we also had a higher obligation that necessitated we act in the manner we did.  Once James and I had talked I picked the  phone up to start the process in a formal way. 

One of the things I like to do is ‘work the phones’ and during the many months of researching avenues to get the best care for our friend, or finding resources or programs that could benefit him, I was often calling folks to make appointments or gain additional insight. So it was natural that I would call the facility that we had agreed upon late this summer when the time came, as the one we would eventually have our friend reside in.

Over the summer of 2009  James and I visited countless living facilities and memory care units, and as eager as they all were for our business we had one over-riding requirement that went unspoken except to each other.  Could the place in question be one where at the end of a visit with our friend we could leave knowing he was in good hands and have no guilt about walking out the door?  I would like to say all those we visited met our needs.  But I can not.  While some private-pay places were extremely nice the economic reality disqualified them from our purpose.  Among the others only one met the standards we sought.  It was that place that received my call on late Wednesday afternoon.

When I placed the phone back down at the end of the call it all hit me hard.  I was professional  while on the line, but this was not just another call I had made for housing such as when I found my niece an apartment in Madison.  While James and I have been consciously aware of the consequences of each action we needed to take during this long process, I must say  the emotional rush after this call took me by surprise.  Tears welled in my eyes, and I thought again how absolutely unforgiving this damned disease is. 

The facility told me we could come and pick out which apartment type setting we wished to put on hold for our friend.  Today we did that, and discovered that among all the rain clouds there was one ray of sun shining for us.  For weeks we knew there was a balcony unit at this site, and just hoped that it was still available.  Looking somewhat  to the southwest we knew the sunsets would color the sky.  So today we started the long paper route that will conclude at some point in the days to come with the actual move. 

I have long-held the memory of Pat Nixon making sure that every item of  President Nixon was moved to San Clemente so that the  morning after the resignation when the day dawned the first thing that greeted Dick’s eyes were the things he had known in the White House.  We have assembled a team of movers, helpers, and friends so that books, desk, plants, pictures and all sorts of memories will be assembled in the new place to greet our friend when he arrives. 

Over the months our friend has asked what other people feel like when they grow older and have problems.  Among other things I have mentioned that they are probably pleased to know that someone ‘has their back’.  That is what James and I have always felt our mission was over this past year.   Not having dependants, while being young and having plenty of energy, allows James and myself to invest our time and emotion into this matter.  It has been a rough journey at times, and the learning curve has shown us that there are always news things to learn.  In the end, however, I hope what we have done over the past 24 hours, and all the leg work of the past months,  will allow our friend to bask in some glorious sunsets on his balcony as Nixon was able to enjoy upon his return to California.