I need advice regarding my elderly parents.
I could use some advice, or even just other points of view, regarding my parents. They both turned 80 last year, and have lately made certain ill-advised lifestyle decisions. My siblings are in no position to help, and distant family is distant. If any family is going to help them, it falls to me. And I'm not sure what I should do.
Executive summary:
Contrary to agreed-on plans to sell their apartment house at a fair value and move permanently to Florida, they dumped it and bought another house. Both they and the new house look awful, and I begin to worry for their well-being. I have no knowledge or experience in caring for elderly but willful parents. Any thoughts or advice would be most welcome.
More details:
As far as I knew, my parents' plan for a goodly while involved selling their apartment building in Fairfield, Maine, where they have landlorded since 2000, and then permanently retiring to Florida. I actively helped insofar as I connected them with a local realtor, and helped them assemble a collection of property photographs. That this was their last adventure in cold New England was never in doubt.
But then, over the winter holidays, they decided essentially overnight to dump the house for a pittance, and immediately buy another, tiny house in nearby Oakland. By the time I learned about this, everything was already in motion, and I felt more resigned about it than moved to somehow intervene. They moved at the start of this month.
Amy and I visited them last weekend. It's pretty awful. The house lies on a lakeshore and the view is nice, but to get there one must barge through a hilly, unpaved road, the valleys of which were filled with tire-slogging mud that day even though it hadn't rained lately. The building itself is a mess; a cottage, basically, stuffed haphazardly with their things, boxes stacked high, inside and out. One bathroom wall doesn't quite reach the ceiling. The house has no basement, and one corner of the building's exterior rests atop on a wooden stilt which itself stands without any apparent fixture on a concrete slab.
My parents don't look well. Amy and I found their appearance and behavior shocking, as if they'd aged ten years or more since we last saw them. During our visit my mom never put pants on over her long johns, and I was sad to see that her dentures were falling apart, giving her several prominently missing (false) teeth. My dad didn't even bother putting in his own teeth, and despite being genuinely overjoyed to see us, fell asleep partway into our short stay. The lunch mom served us took the form of plates of gray meat and stale bread, with condiments ranging from flavored applesauce to shrink-wrapped fajita vegetables. The plates were full of water. Nobody knew why.
It did rain as we sped back home on I-95 the next day. This put Amy into the mind of wondering what that road's like now, and how able my father is to navigate it; he's had one car accident so far earlier this year, before the move, and mom doesn't drive.
I haven't thought about it much because they're far away, and caring for the elderly had never ranked large on my family's priorities. I had only one grandparent whose lifetime overlapped with my own, and to the best of my knowledge she simply lived in her own house until she died one day; however that happened, it was 20 years ago, and my parents didn't seem especially involved. Similarly, while my parents have set up legal structures to give me power of attorney in the event of their own passing, the only plans they had for their sunset years amounted to "go someplace warm". I was willing to trust them to see that through, because of their love for Florida, which they do still manage to visit annually. But here now they've messed it up.
They get along because their will still burns so brightly, and they have no problem finding people to help them; their little property was littered with tools and equipment from whatever dudes they have over during the week to fix things up. But I think they may have gone too far this time. This location's terrain is poor to the point of treacherous, and makes me worry about what sort of property they intend to buy in Florida, to say nothing of them undertaking the whole adventure of house-hunting all the way down there.
Before this visit, I was of a mind that their life is their own, no matter how old and, alas, age-infirm they are. There are few activities they love more than buying and selling houses — this has been true my whole life — and if that's how they want to spend all their days to the very last, maybe I should let them. But this last visit really broke my heart away from hardening like this, especially with Amy there to provide an objective view about how quite dreadful the whole situation looked.
So here I am, honestly unsure what, if anything, I ought to do. Ricky and Peter and Janice all exist, but they all carry burdens of their own and can't help in any ways other than the most short-term; none can assist with deeper plans or ideas. With my dad mostly tuned out, mom's gregarious battiness drives my parents' path, and it kind of stinks, but it's what they've chosen. I don't wish to treat them like children, or something. And otherwise I don't have much sense for what's appropriate, since lack of grandparents or extended family means that this just isn't something I've been exposed to before.
I would deeply appreciate any thoughts or insight from those wiser than me on this matter.
Executive summary:
Contrary to agreed-on plans to sell their apartment house at a fair value and move permanently to Florida, they dumped it and bought another house. Both they and the new house look awful, and I begin to worry for their well-being. I have no knowledge or experience in caring for elderly but willful parents. Any thoughts or advice would be most welcome.
More details:
As far as I knew, my parents' plan for a goodly while involved selling their apartment building in Fairfield, Maine, where they have landlorded since 2000, and then permanently retiring to Florida. I actively helped insofar as I connected them with a local realtor, and helped them assemble a collection of property photographs. That this was their last adventure in cold New England was never in doubt.
But then, over the winter holidays, they decided essentially overnight to dump the house for a pittance, and immediately buy another, tiny house in nearby Oakland. By the time I learned about this, everything was already in motion, and I felt more resigned about it than moved to somehow intervene. They moved at the start of this month.
Amy and I visited them last weekend. It's pretty awful. The house lies on a lakeshore and the view is nice, but to get there one must barge through a hilly, unpaved road, the valleys of which were filled with tire-slogging mud that day even though it hadn't rained lately. The building itself is a mess; a cottage, basically, stuffed haphazardly with their things, boxes stacked high, inside and out. One bathroom wall doesn't quite reach the ceiling. The house has no basement, and one corner of the building's exterior rests atop on a wooden stilt which itself stands without any apparent fixture on a concrete slab.
My parents don't look well. Amy and I found their appearance and behavior shocking, as if they'd aged ten years or more since we last saw them. During our visit my mom never put pants on over her long johns, and I was sad to see that her dentures were falling apart, giving her several prominently missing (false) teeth. My dad didn't even bother putting in his own teeth, and despite being genuinely overjoyed to see us, fell asleep partway into our short stay. The lunch mom served us took the form of plates of gray meat and stale bread, with condiments ranging from flavored applesauce to shrink-wrapped fajita vegetables. The plates were full of water. Nobody knew why.
It did rain as we sped back home on I-95 the next day. This put Amy into the mind of wondering what that road's like now, and how able my father is to navigate it; he's had one car accident so far earlier this year, before the move, and mom doesn't drive.
I haven't thought about it much because they're far away, and caring for the elderly had never ranked large on my family's priorities. I had only one grandparent whose lifetime overlapped with my own, and to the best of my knowledge she simply lived in her own house until she died one day; however that happened, it was 20 years ago, and my parents didn't seem especially involved. Similarly, while my parents have set up legal structures to give me power of attorney in the event of their own passing, the only plans they had for their sunset years amounted to "go someplace warm". I was willing to trust them to see that through, because of their love for Florida, which they do still manage to visit annually. But here now they've messed it up.
They get along because their will still burns so brightly, and they have no problem finding people to help them; their little property was littered with tools and equipment from whatever dudes they have over during the week to fix things up. But I think they may have gone too far this time. This location's terrain is poor to the point of treacherous, and makes me worry about what sort of property they intend to buy in Florida, to say nothing of them undertaking the whole adventure of house-hunting all the way down there.
Before this visit, I was of a mind that their life is their own, no matter how old and, alas, age-infirm they are. There are few activities they love more than buying and selling houses — this has been true my whole life — and if that's how they want to spend all their days to the very last, maybe I should let them. But this last visit really broke my heart away from hardening like this, especially with Amy there to provide an objective view about how quite dreadful the whole situation looked.
So here I am, honestly unsure what, if anything, I ought to do. Ricky and Peter and Janice all exist, but they all carry burdens of their own and can't help in any ways other than the most short-term; none can assist with deeper plans or ideas. With my dad mostly tuned out, mom's gregarious battiness drives my parents' path, and it kind of stinks, but it's what they've chosen. I don't wish to treat them like children, or something. And otherwise I don't have much sense for what's appropriate, since lack of grandparents or extended family means that this just isn't something I've been exposed to before.
I would deeply appreciate any thoughts or insight from those wiser than me on this matter.
no subject
not sure how in depth you got when you talked to them, but why not florida now? why the new intermediary step? what changed with their plans? are they aware that where they are may cause issues with mobility and what-not? are there places they go, people they see, or do they just sit at home? i think these are important questions to ask them (or your mom) that may help you with figuring out what happened and how to proceed. i also recommend contacting senior centers in the area or within the state of maine. not only may they have good resources for you (helping you frame the conversation, providing insight on how to approach potentially awkward subjects), there are sometimes visitor services where volunteers go and visit to make sure things are ok and report back when they aren't. i would also not just do the power of attorney you currently have, which doesn't activate until something drastic happens,, but look into getting the medical power of attorney as well. legally, your mother's doctor, or your father's for that matter, can't tell you anything, which also may give you some answers (not that they are ill, but doing it now saves hassle in the future). it's also harder for you to get their doctors on board down the line if you aren't legally allowed to loop them in.
it sounds like, distance or no, you're the person to whom this will fall. this is not any fun at all, and i encourage you to reach out to trained professionals (doctors, senior center counselors) to get some support on how to approach the situation and have these tough conversations. i am also happy to answer any questions about my own experience, anytime.
no subject
There are many degrees of help one can get. Don't feel like "if I can't get them into assisted living, I've failed." My grandfather would still be on his own in his own home today if my family'd been more persistent in getting him in-home help—cleaning his house but also checking on his well-being. As a result of our willingness to let him do his own thing, he's now trapped in an elder care facility as a result of one of his medical conditions going way too far. I do think he's doing as well as he can right now—but I also think the situation was avoidable, especially if we were willing to face the fact that he needed more help head-on.
Anyway, my point is, independence is something it's hard to give up for the elders in question, and it's also hard for their children to understand the variety of services available, but visitor services is 100% what it sounds like you need right now.
no subject
Getting them to accept that they need help may be difficult, and getting them to see that their current living conditions are problematic (would they be able to get emergency help quickly in the event of a medical crisis, or even a bad fall?) is a challenge and may take some time, but you should think about planting seeds today for the longer term.
One other thing to keep in mind: old people are fantastically tough. They may appear fragile as hell, but I've lived around a lot of very old people for a very long time, and I've pretty much ceased to believe in death because they seem to persist through thick and thin. So while things probably look really bad, there may be a more solid foundation under them than is first apparent.
no subject
Mom 'hid' her need for help rather well. She had apparently gotten to the point of taking nothing but sponge baths and literally crawling on hands and knees up and down the basement stairs (to do laundry) because mobility issues prevented her from using the bathtub and using the basement stairs normally. This went on for nearly two years before anyone realized it.
One thing she insisted on was *not* to end up dying in a nursing home. It was rough but my brother and I managed to keep that promise.
no subject