I paid a long over due visit to my grandparents today. Once a month or so I go over and help with some house cleaning. Vacuuming, mopping the kitchen floor and on occasion cleaning brass with Nana. They insist on paying me even though I’ve tried arguing. I don’t do this for money, I do it because they’re my grandparents and I want to help if I can. None the less, at the end of my 2 hour stint they insist and cleverly hide it in the envelope of Sudoku puzzles they also save for me.
I usually get there early in the AM after dropping my sister off at work, around 8:45. I buy a coffee on the way and before I get to any house work we sit and chat and catch up on my apparently “exciting” life. I never have much to talk about as all I do now a days is work and come home from work. So more often than not I’m the one with the listening ear as they talk about their friends, the neighbors and how the cost of everything is just ridiculous. Which I agree on. However, they grew up in the Depression so I don’t think it’s fair to say that I quite grasp it completely from their end. So when they save plastic zip lock bags or napkins I try not to say anything.
They have friends who recently moved into retirement living. From what they say it sounds like a nice place. It’s not a nursing home as they don’t need that kind of care, but the wife does have a touch of Alzheimer’s so some care is needed.
I found it interesting to hear what my grandparents – people of an age that actually live in these facilities – had to say about it. My grandfather found it depressing. He thought the idea of such a regimented routine would turn ones brain to mush. And I agree, to any other individual it probably would. But to someone with Alzheimer’s it’s necessary and very helpful. I think he might have had a bit of worry should they ever have to go into this kind of living.
Both my grandparents are 88 and doing remarkably well. I think they’ll live out happy years in their home.
And I’ll always continue cleaning.