Growing Old

Yesterday we had a great group over for some football watchin' and homemade chili eatin'.
It was rainy and cold outside and our little house felt perfectly warm with all our friends and family gathered around.

My parents were among our guests and after the game they stayed longer, which I always love.

The previous day they had made a trip to see my grandfather who lives in a nursing home in Medford. It's almost a three hour drive each way for a half hour visit. My grandfather is 90 years old, loosing his sight, his hearing and his spunk. Those are hard visits for my parents. My mom is loosing her father and my dad is reminded of the many years his mom spent in a nursing home before she passed away.

When I asked my dad how the trip was, I got one of those looks. I knew immediately it wasn't a great visit. As we talked, I feared I would hear that my grandfather wasn't doing well or something sad like that. Instead, what we discussed was my dad's real feelings about nursing homes and his take on growing old.

If you know my dad at all, you know he is quiet and reserved and topics that revolve around feelings are strategically avoided. Not last night.

I learned so much.
My dad does not want to go into a nursing home, like ever.

He explained that just driving up to the home to visit my grandfather made him sad.
Is that what life really boils down to? You are reduced to one room, one twin bed, one dresser, a night stand and all of your once loved possessions are really reduced to a shoebox full. There's no one there that really knows you. Your limited wardrobe could be faded or stained and the laundry lady doesn't seem to notice, or to maybe to care. Your dinner is served by strangers in a community hall, and you sit next to people who don't know you or your story and who most likely will forget what you told them when you see them at your next meal, and might not even comprehend you are there.

In my grandfather's case, his family lives three hours away. When we visit, at it's longest it's a half hour, simply because he gets too tired.

My dads mom lived in a nursing home for something like 12 years. He visited her every day and he recalls how she really did thrive on how sickly she was. It became like a game of who had more ailments.

Downright depressing topic.

He then jokingly said his long term care plan is just to go for a long walk in the woods one day. I nearly cried. Instead of a long walk, I told him I would take care of him. And he did cry. The tears welled up behind his round little glasses and we had ourselves one of those moments.

We kept talking.
My dad was telling me about one of his friends who is currently has his father-in-law living with them while he ends his life. His friend said he feels like it is sort of an honor to help take care of a person whose life is ending.

I'm not sure I have ever really put much thought into what would happened when my parents grew old. After last night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I guess now might be a good time to start figuring out what they really want. I realize this might seem a bit premature, but I want to know before we get into a situation where they might not be able to communicate it so well, or even worse, we get to a point where I think I am helping but come to find out it's the exact opposite of what they would like...I would be mortified!

What to do?
What to do?

Heavy topic, I know.