Who Will Take Care of You When You’re Old?
My mother-in-law and father-in-law have been scurrying around, shuttling grandma to and from the hospital to see grandpa, who has been hanging out flirting with nurses since my last update. He’s doing better and we hope to bring him home today, but it’s hard to say whether that will happen (doctors schedules on Christmas Eve are anybody’s guess).
I just overheard my MIL telling my husband that she’s not worried that I’ll take care of her when she’s old. We’d just been talking about friends they have who aren’t sure whether their kids will take care of them; or who have no children and who wonder who will be there for them when they become so dependent. It’s a scary thought.
This conversation comes at an interesting time, as I spent the time in the car (13 hours — whoo hoo!) on the way to St. Louis reading Water For Elephants — a warm, wonderful book about a man who is 90, or 93 (he can’t remember) reminiscing about his years as a veternarian with a circus. He’s in an assisted living facility, this era’s euphemism for “nursing home.” In the book, he is forgotten, or visited by family members who take turns, visiting out of duty. The cycle of their visits is so spread out that by the time the same visitors return, he’s forgotten who they are. He’s stunned when a nurse talks to him as a real person, not a turnip. You’ll have to read the book (and I highly recommend it) to find out the delightful ending.
The timing of this glimpse into this man’s life and recollections could not have come at a better time, as I sat across from grandpa in his hospital gown, watching him dance in his chair as we played the kids’ videos from their winter concerts.
I hope he gets to come home today. It just won’t be the same without him.