End of an Era

For years, Sunday dinner meant the Allan's. Early on, it was the two of them. Expectations were high. No casseroles or shortcuts were allowed. Sunday dinner meant meat and potatoes, rolls, dessert, fresh vegetables. I remember the time when I didn't fix rolls. I apologized but explained the weekend had been too hectic to get them made. During the meal, I asked Glen if I could get him anything. He announced, with disgust, "YOU COULD GET ME ROLLS." Too funny. Sunday dinner was an event.

After Glen died, Grandma Allan would drive herself to our house. When that became unsafe, Steve or one of the kids would go to her house fifteen minutes away; she would be waiting in the glider outside. As she got slower and less stable on her feet, we would go inside and walk along side her as she slowly made her way to the front door. For the last eight months, Steve has been unable to drive safely so I was typically the one to make the trek. Forty five minutes to pick her up. Forty five minutes to return her to her home. It has taken real strategy to figure out meals which need minimal effort the last 45 minutes before serving. When I couldn't figure out how to get the meal on the table and pick up grandma, Greg was always willing to make the trip.

This last Sunday, when I went to pick her up, the round trip stretched to well over an hour. She absolutely couldn't take a step without help. She was trying to use the facilities when I arrived and was so unsteady that she had to sit after I slid down each layer. We repeated the process getting her dressed again - her resting after each layer while I pulled and smoothed. I have no idea how she accomplishes the necessary when someone isn't there to deal with the clothing and pads. Getting out of her house and to the car was a MAJOR ordeal, I kept thinking, "Why would she even want to leave her home when it takes this much effort? Certainly food cannot be this important. This is absolutely crazy, as well as unsafe."

As tough as that was, getting up and down our five front porch steps was even worse. With Greg on one side and Steve on the other, they practically lifted her up the stairs. At no time during the hour long saga did she take one step on her own. She couldn't even walk with the walker - but sat on it and was pushed.

Perhaps Sunday dinner will now mean we eat with her at the assisted living. The days of eating at our house are history.

This past week has taken incredible effort. While we were enjoying education week, Bob and Kathy had so much to do. Grandma fell twice (causing them to leave their bed or their work to come to her aid). She had a dentist appointment, a hair appointment (which senior care took care of), an appointment with her doctor, and an extra trip to instacare. All that on top of taking her to dinner, bring in the paper each day, taking out the garbage can, bringing in food, helping her get into bed. Whew! I felt badly that I couldn't help. What is worse is that now that the semester has begun, I am still unavailable to help. I am begging that they put her in assisted living. This is asking too much of the caregivers and is unsafe.