I used to advise people to hug a Black person as part of their MLK Day celebration. I’d even ask people who weren’t Black if they had hugged a Black person on this day, and then offer to give them a hug to help them celebrate. Honestly, that may have been the only thing they did or only time they ever celebrated, but it’s better than nothing.
My sister and I were looking for something to do since we both had the day off. Yet, nothing was happening in town. Even the out of town celebrations didn’t quite speak to us. And then it happened: Dad fell out of bed.
More accurately, Dad miscalculated and ended up on the floor. He had arranged the sparse furniture in his room to put himself into his wheelchair. His plan was to exit his bedroom and then place himself into the wheelchair lift to go downstairs.
I heard the thud from the den and raced up two flights of stairs to maneuver him back in bed.
I used to say that Dad has “early dementia,” but that’s a hazy explanation about how Dad thinks. Dad has lost his mental acuity, yet he still remembers who we are. More importantly, he remembers who he is. A tough Vietnam Vet chestnut who’d attempt to rig up an escape route out of his hospital bed just to go downstairs.
Mom said that he’d forgotten that he couldn’t walk. I disagree. I believe that Dad, like most people, can achieve some incredible things when he puts his mind to it. Most days, he has no motivation to exercise even though that would help with maintaining and improving his leg strength, especially when he wants to take himself downstairs without our assistance.
While Mom hopes/wishes/prays for Dad to walk again, I’d had enough. I researched senior living facilities to accommodate Dad. Not just for his sake, but for Mom’s as well. My motivation is to place Dad in a facility before Mom can no longer be independent.
As Dad’s primary caregiver, Mom’s mental and physical health have been compromised from trying too hard to maneuver him, assisting with most daily activities and then restbroken when he calls for her in the middle of the night.
The plan came together. I arranged tours of three local facilities, which all offered memory care, the highest level of assisted living without being a skilled facility. I think. It’s all still very new to me.
Whereas some people perform community service on MLK Day, the service I performed was for my parents. My sister stayed with Dad while I helped Mom navigate to the facilities and take notes during the tours.
As it turned out, the facility that we both liked the best was the furthest away. All three seemed close in price range even though they differed in the level of quality from resort to asylum.
Even before we toured the facilities, Mom found the idea of filling out financial aid paperwork, which detailed their assets to be abhorrent. At least she learned that Dad would probably not qualify for additional VA benefits since he’s 100% disabled.
To say that she clutches the purse strings tightly is an understatement. Yet, she has to make the decision to place Dad in the best place she can afford before her own health deteriorates further. At the same time, Mom continues to hope/wish/pray for Dad’s mobility to dramatically improve.
All I can do is assist her with doing research and keep my sisters informed about what’s going on. We seem to be on the same page, but Mom cannot be rushed. Mom believes that she’s going to “sleep on it.”
Until Dad breaks her sleep in the middle of the night.
Later during the evening on MLK day, I attended a dance class. I offered to give a hug to anyone who hadn’t hugged a Black person. They all rushed in for a group hug.
