MY FOLKS AS OLD PEOPLE

The Old Rusty Nail

AN E-JOURNAL FOR OLD PEOPLE

Russell Burton, an Old Person

I never understood my folks’ feelings when they were old. They both experienced old age for many years as my father died when he was 87 and my mother when she was 92.  I guess I never really tried because I did not understand the remarkable change in people when they become old.  I guess that is one reason I write these essays because I want people to understand that being old is a new ballgame.  I guess in a sense it is like being born again but this time as an old person.

I guess one reason I had no empathy for my folks during their old age was because they never once mentioned what it was like.  They just went about their lives as best they could.  They alive together in a small house they owned in a small town in California.  I was busy with my career living in Texas so distance played a role in our relationship.  Still I visited them several times a year when I could during which times I would help them with home repairs, some bookkeeping, driving them about the town, etc.

My father suffered from some moderate form of Dementia and my mother had lost her central vision with Macular Degeneration.  But, together they remained independent until I realized that they could no longer live alone.  One big reason was that they depended on a couple, good friends of mine, who lived 10 miles away in another town.  Even though they willingly helped my folks for many years and never complained to me I knew that they were being taken advantage of so I finally moved them to live with me in Texas.

While still living at his home, one day my with some dementia father motioned for me to come close to him as he wanted to tell me something.  In a low voice, almost a whisper he said, “You know son I am going to live forever.”  That statement caught me by surprise but obviously he was thinking about the inevitable and did not like it.  But that brief statement was the only conversation I had with my folks about what it was like to grow old.  So, in a way I feel cheated as I did not get their knowledge about this part of one’s life.  I was just not prepared for this chapter in my life. 

Now I am not calling my folks cheaters for their disregard informing me about living to be old.  I am sure it just never crossed their minds that they might give me any advice or even thoughts on the subject.  And, I am not sure their experiences on the subject would have been of interest to me anyway for being old does not get much attention until one is old.

I guess I should have thought something about their lives when I was given clues at times usually by my mother.  We talked more than my father and me.  The small town they lived in was without taxi service so they were forced to drive their car much too long with their disabilities.  My father of course always drove but interestingly they compensated for each other’s problems as my father was my mother’s vision and my mother was my dad’s brain.

As my father’s mental condition worsened we visited a neurologist about his dementia.  Of course then there were no treatments for it.  But, when he learned that my father was still driving and had a .22 pistol in a night stand by his bed, he immediately told me to stop his driving and take away the pistol.

Suddenly, I had to take control of my father’s life in a way that was not fair to me nor to him.  He accepted the no driving but when he had discovered that I had taken away his pistol, he went into a rage telling me to go back to Texas for I was not welcome in his home. Of course this hurt me but I and my mother understood his situation.  Like my mother said ‘you are making his life smaller and smaller’.  And, what she said was very true.  Unfortunately, I was the only one in the position to do those things.  

When my folks moved to Texas my mother lived with me and my family, my father I put in an assisted living facility.  He didn’t want to live there and I didn’t blame him but besides his dementia he had an artificial leg which in those days was difficult to manage for an old person.  Many advances have been made in the design of these leg prostheses so today he would have been more mobile. 

The assisted living facility I chose for my father in Texas was a good one and close to my home so my mother and I could visit him.  My mother visited him every day. My father died less than a year after he entered the assisted living facility. 

A few months after my father died my mother’s health suddenly deteriorated. We made several visits to her physician before her condition was diagnosed as loss of blood from hemorrhage from stomach ulcers.  She never regained her strength so needing more care than my wife who had multiple sclerosis and I working many times in foreign countries could provide I moved her to the assisted living facility where my dad had lived.

I visited her regularly so it was a surprise to learn that she wanted to move closer to her daughter who lived in Arizona.  I accepted her decision for she was still capable of making it.  Unfortunately, the assisted living facility there was of very poor quality.  Her TV could not be used, which she loved and they did not have a recreation program.  It was just a storage house for old people.

I was not aware of this until I got a phone call that my sister had suddenly died.  Her death was a shock to me for she was 10 years younger than me – just 55 years old. Obviously, I immediately went there and brought my mother home.  I was shocked to see how she had deteriorated with the poor care she had received.  Perhaps I should have investigated the facility more thoroughly but then my sister had told me it was a good one. 

My mother’s mental capacity was nearly gone from the poor care.  She did recognize me and my family but the brightness in her eyes had gone.  She was soon put into hospice care at the facility where she had previously lived and died a few months later.  I know that if she had remained in San Antonio she would most likely have lived to be a 100 years old.

My sudden awareness that I am now my folks’ age is a bit of a shock.  Unlike my folks I take much better care of myself although I do drink a lot more alcohol than they ever did.  Still I walk 3 miles 3 times a week, do my aerobics on the stationary bike and lift weights at the gym on a regular basis so I am trying to make old age as tolerable as possible.

I suppose there will be problems being old with my son and his children living 14 hours away by car.  I am just trying to keep it as far in the future as possible.  You will read more about this as it unfolds.  Keep reading if you are interested.

12/2014

P. S: This blog was written more than two years ago.  Old age has taken its toll for now I go to the gym only twice a week and my mobility includes a cane.  More on this in later blogs.