Wrinkled Wings - - (continued)

           
 It was an innocent sounding answer to my neighbors question of what do I do all day?

• "I write." But it came out kind of blunt, and a bit prideful. 
•  "And what do you write?" he persisted.  I gave an "Anne-of-Green-Gables" answer.
• "Books!"
• "About what?" my questioner was not quite satisfied.
• "Old folks living in communal facilities for retirement living."
• "Oh. they are really great institutions, aren't they?"
• "Right. But, you know, there are other viewpoints."
• "Well, I guess you only find that out by living there."
•  "The last ten years in two such facilities kind of makes me an expert, right"?

           Where does Grandma go now that she can no longer live alone?  At this juncture a healthy respect is required.  We simply must talk about it together.  Young folks and us old geezers.  Thus, the reason for my book.  For although I am fairly familiar with all the unsung blessings of retirement homes, there remains a dearth of honest, gut-level information about what it is life really like, little tips that can grease the skids for grandma and grandpa who are ready to settle in for the long haul.

           Most of all complete honesty is needed. So present all the facts; what you do know and what you don't. Be forthcoming,
          "You know Mom, I don't really have all the answers but we can go over to visit again, how about that?"
             Mom will be disarmed by your obvious  "I'll settle for nothing less than the truth." attitude.  This is a big step for her at the end of her life.  It takes guts and a good sense of humor to avoid the shallows.
             "But,"  Mom is sure to say, " now that Tommy is in the Navy, his room seems awfully empty."   So again the obvious must be re-examined.
               "Don't forget, Mom, Tom needs to have his own room waiting for him when he is discharged, and you know how he drives us all a little nuts when he has the remote control in his hand."
              And slowly the bare naked facts stand there shivering. Mother should not live alone anymore for she might fall down and break her hip.  Breaking your hip seems to be the one thing in life you must never do, for it marks the beginning of the end. So it follows that Mother must go to a place where someone can watch her.
                  Here it is that Mother's horrible "nursing home" must do a Jekyll and Hyde transformation into a turn-of-the-century retirement facility for independent seniors.  And here it is that I jot down the fun and the fury of what life is for some grandmas and grandpas as they hit their eighties.