I just spoke to my sister. She’s in the car with my folks. Everyone’s in Milwaukee.
Today was the day. After sixteen years my folks sold their Boynton Beach condo and moved from Florida to Wisconsin.
I know. Who moves from Florida to Wisconsin, especially with winter nearly here? In this case it’s not just a good move, it’s the best move!
My parents are moving to an assisted living facility near my sister, brother-in-law and their family. My folks will be within minutes of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
No one wants to see their parents need a place like this, but it’s the reality. Living alone was no longer an acceptable solution. We all knew it.
Tomorrow, Helaine and I fly to Milwaukee. Stef is already on-the-way. It’s a trip scheduled before my parents decided to move. We’re going to celebrate my sister’s milestone birthday… a number so immense I dare not print it.
Now there’s a bonus reason.
My parents don’t get out much anymore. We, on the other hand, will be out-and-about. Please Milwaukee, don’t be too cold!
Bad time to have a cold. I’m flying this afternoon. Stef and I are heading to Florida to get my parents ready to move. My sister and brother-in-law are already there.
My parents are on their way to Wisconsin where my sister and her family live. There are grandchildren and great grandchildren there too.
It’s a bittersweet move, but it’s necessary. They’re taking an apartment in an assisted living community near Milwaukee. My folks need the reassurance that comes with having help in the building and family nearby.
My sister says it’s an active community. When she visited there were lots of people socializing.
My dad’s already sold the car and their condo. There’ll be a lot more purging this weekend.
Helaine and I went through the same ritual when we moved here from Connecticut. It’s tough. Who wants to throw away all those things you wanted to save. All those memories.
If everything goes according to plan my parents will be in Milwaukee in a few weeks. Winter in Wisconsin is harsh, but they won’t have to deal with it. Nearly everything they need will be footsteps away.
Thanks to all of you who’ve followed my mom’s trip to the hospital then rehab. Things are going as well as can be expected… maybe a little better.
My mom left the hospital last Tuesday and headed to a rehab facility in Lantana, just north of where my folks live in Boynton Beach.
For the first few days she went through one rehab session a day. Now she’s up to two. She is walking with assistance and has even fed herself a little. The therapists are working with her as she strengthens her legs.
These are big steps. My mom isn’t going to leave and run in a marathon, but if she can be rehabilitated to the point where she can walk a short distance and feed herself she can return home.
That’s the goal!
My mom doesn’t want to be there. She’s made that clear from the moment she arrived. We have tried delicately to convince her this is in her own best interest.
My dad is doing an amazing job in that regard. I’m not sure how he does it. This is a taxing chore for anyone, but at 86 it’s got to be really brutal.
I don’t know how long my mom will have to stay in the facility. My sister says Medicare can provide up to 90 days in rehab if she continues to benefit and improve. We hope she’s out sooner.
I can’t wait for the day my mom returns home. A week ago I was sure that would never happen. Now it looks likely.
It’s called the Sunshine State! Unlike the Garden State this motto works! My two days in Florida have been sunny and mild.
It’s called the Sunshine State! Unlike the Garden State this motto works! My two days in Florida have been sunny and mild. I love Connecticut, but I also love walking around in a short sleeve polo shirt after dark in January.
My trip here has one purpose–to see my parents. There are some things you can’t do often enough. My sister and I try our best.
What we can do while here is limited. Neither parent has a lot of stamina and walks farther than front door to auto are out of the question. It doesn’t matter. I enjoy what I get.
Early this afternoon we visited my Cousins Carol and Howie. When I was growing up Carol was a lot older than me. Funny how time closes that gap, isn’t it?
Their son Michael came with his wife, their two small children and her cousin. I’m going to need a scorecard.
I love little kids and Michael’s are scrumptious. I think I got the kid liking gene from my dad.
We stayed a few hours as the Giants pummeled the Falcons.
“I’ve been looking for the Eagles,” Cousin Howie offered. The Eagles were 2011’s most disappointing underachievers.
Had the shoe been on the other foot Howie would have gotten similar crap from me. Damn! I hate turnabout when I can’t participate.
A little cake… a little coffee… we were back in the car heading back to my parent’s condo. As they sat and watched TV I walked over to a banyan tree alongside the clubhouse. It’s a rookery for egrets. Late afternoon is when they fly home for the night.
My photo session was mostly disappointing, but there were a few nice shots.
It’s likely the TSA will look at their scanner and think I’m smuggling a few torpedoes!
I’m on my way to Florida in the morning to spend a few days with my parents. This was put together at the last minute so Stef asked, understandably, if everything was OK? Absolutely.
It’s supposed to be impossible and expensive to fly at the last minute, but we did well. Helaine originally found a return flight for a free Southwest ticket we have (expiring this month). She bought the “to” flight Wednesday, but kept checking back. On Thursday that flight also became available for a free ticket.
I’m not sure I totally understand, but because we acted within 24 hours she was able to cancel the paid reservation and replace it with mileage. We’ll check the credit card statement, but the website says it was refunded to our account.
I plan on shooting some photos so I borrowed a couple of lenses… big lenses. They’re in my carry on. More accurately they’re most of my carry on!
It’s likely the TSA will look at their scanner and think I’m smuggling a few torpedoes!
There are a bunch of good photo spots though my original intention to shoot surfers near the Lake Worth Pier looks to be undone by flat water. Damn you good weather!
Mostly I’m looking forward to seeing my folks.
Blogger’s note: Doppler is staying at home in Connecticut with a sitter.
I know my parents smoked back in the day. I can safely say this because I was there.
I came of age in the sixties. Did I smoke pot? Please! I’m not sure I knew anyone who didn’t. It was a generational thing.
On the other hand the generation before mine, the one Tom Brokaw named “The Greatest Generation,” they were a little straighter… or so I thought!
I grew up in a six story building in Queens. We were in Apartment 5E. Last night my lifelong friend Dennis who grew up in Apartment 5F posted a link to a story which said marijuana “grew like weeds in 1950s Brooklyn.” He followed up by saying…
My father admitted to having smoked pot when he was young privately to me. I do not know if my mother actually ever knew. I assume my brother did, but I don’t know for sure. But he nonetheless did not want me to use it, and didn’t want it in the house
Honest – his dad Sidney was the last person I’d have expected.
I know my parents smoked back in the day. I can safely say this because I was there. It’s possible I was the provocateur (though you know how it is with pot… there’s so much you don’t remember)!
So, we’ve now established pot in 5E and 5F and I assumed that would be the end of the story until I got an email this morning from another one of my neighbors. She grew up next door on the other side in Apartment 5D. No names here as she has asked to remain anonymous.
When my parents moved to Florida and I was helping them clean out the apartment, I found a small prescription bottle with some pot in it and a package of rolling papers. I quickly shut it and thought which one of my sisters was stupid enough to hide this in our parents’ room. Then all of a sudden my mother called out to me, “By the way, did you find that pot on the windowsill?”
I literally almost fainted. She told me that everyone on the news and everywhere was talking so much about it that they HAD to try it.
They got some through a friend, smoked it once, didn’t understand what the big deal was, and left it there on the windowsill and forgot about it! It had been there for years.
Three families living inches from each other with the same silly secret. I’ll bet it’s as much as shock to the ‘kids’ from 5D and 5F as it was to me from 5E.
Memo to kids: Your parents are hipper than you’ll ever know.
The effect is whenever the doorbell rings it’s like being at St. Patricks’s Cathedral as mass is called on Christmas Eve!
The sky is blue. The sun is warm. It’s still early spring and the humidity isn’t here. Florida is perfect today. Not nearly perfect–perfect!
My mom is doing very well. She’s still medicated to help her pain, but she’s functioning and walking around a little. She has begun to wrap her hand around soft objects like a towel and squeeze her fingers. It’s important for her to stretch her tendons.
This was my scheduled day to leave and the schedule holds. I’ll be on the 6:15 PM flight to Tampa then another flight from there to Hartford. I should be home before midnight.
I am exhausted. This is not a good place to rest! My parents are LOUD. My dad wears hearing aids in both ears which seem to be totally non-functional based on my observation.
They started talking to each other, which translates to yelling at each other, early this morning. By nine the phone and doorbell had made their presence known. The day after surgery the phone started ringing in the morning and continued non-stop all day long.
In order to make sure the doorbell is heard there is a repeater chime inside the house. The effect is whenever the doorbell rings it’s like being at St. Patrick’s Cathedral as mass is called on Christmas Eve!
The phone rings in three or four different places calling out the name of the caller after the second ring. “Katz Miriam” is a favorite as the phone speaks last name first.
My parents seem to be in good health. They’re in their 80s so expectations are different, but they got around nicely until this mishap and will again beyond the next few days. My mother will continue to wear her big slap of foam rubber until she revisits the surgeon Tuesday.
Regardless of circumstances it’s great to see them. I’ll miss them when I go.