I went back home to help Mom and Dad clean out Grandma’s house. She has been put in a nursing home. At 94 years young, she broke her pelvis and could not care for herself. Thank goodness she listened to Dad and let her begrudgingly get her a Medic Alert so she wasn’t laying on the floor for two days before anyone knew anything was wrong this time. Gram was what we always called a “pack rat” now known as a “hoarder”.
Mom and Dad were up there working for quite some time and filled two 30 yard dumpsters with the results of her hoarding. We have all dreaded this day for years. We know someday it would be up to the family to clear out her home. I offered to go up and help, a couple of days before my departure, Mom and Dad called and said not to come, they had it almost done. I was truly torn about going or listening to them. I ended up not going. A few days later, I found out they just felt bad about me taking vacation time for cleaning my Grandma’s house. I went the following weekend.
I spent a couple of days in PA with Mom and Dad. It was nice to spend the time with them with no other distractions, ie: my kids. We went up and finished cleaning, which honestly, was nothing. I got to spend time with my Grandma. It was so sad to see her in the nursing home. Dont get me wrong, the nursing home is really nice, the employees were really nice, her roommate seemed friendly enough (though Grandma is not a fan of her).
My heart just sank leaving her there every night. She is in the right place, there is no doubt, she could not care for herself anymore. However, she has not realized that. I think that is what makes it extra hard, she does not want to be there. It is heartbreaking since that is the only option. Mom and Dad tried to get her to move to PA in their neighborhood so they could keep an eye on her, but she didnt want to leave upstate NY. So, truly this is the only option. Does not make it any easier. I see how hard it is on my Dad. I cant imagine how he must feel.
My Great Aunt Grace was also put in the same nursing home just weeks after my Grandma. My Great Aunt was 99 years old. She was furious about being there. Just a few days after we visitied with her, she passed away. I was grateful that God took her home. She was not happy, in lots of pain, and simply miserable. Grandma was praying for God to take her home. I was glad that Grandma took the loss very well.
Time with Mom and Dad was good. We laughed a lot, talked a lot, and got to put our arms around each other. We need to make more time for that.