It is an interesting period of life when one is faced with aging parents, disease, and the need to move. Such has been the last six months of our lives. Faced with a new illness for my father, we decided that instead of waiting until death to deal with the estate, the state of their home, their personal needs to be closer to a dependable adult child, and the new health challenges, we opted to face everything directly. Within three months, we had moved my parents to Florida to be close to us. It has been, at the very least, quite an adventure.
At first, we were all a bit numb. Daddy was sick. Mother was feeling quite vulnerable. We lived over 700 miles away and there was that pesky promise I had made years before. I had put my arm around Mother’s shoulder and said, “Mother, when the time comes, don’t worry. I’ll be there.” That was all well and good. But in truth, I was not there…but over 700 miles away. What should we do? How were we going to deal with this? My only sister who lived close-by has been and continues to be “needy…”, even when my parents were beginning to struggle with their own new-found neediness.
I was very unhappy with the distance between my parents and me. Every time I talked with my mother, her vulnerability screamed out at me over the phone. It was tangible. It was palpable. It was un-nerving. My husband looked at me one night after a particularly difficult conversation with my mother. He just simply said, “We’re not doing this. This doesn’t work for you and it is not working for them.”
I looked at him quizzically. I asked, “So, what do you suggest?”
He nodded emphatically. “We move them here. There’s got to be a unit here in the building that we can buy, prepare and get ready for them. What do you think?”
I was stunned. He was serious. More than serious. He was emphatic. And so, in the next couple of days, my husband did what he does so naturally. He looked around for that perfect condominium unit, found several options, and suggested the idea to my parents. To my shock, they agreed. I realized then how providential it had been for them to have come to help me back in September when I had surgery. They had loved it here. Those five weeks had been great weeks. It was as if Someone out there was preparing the way for us…like that Someone often does when we aren’t paying attention. Those Footsteps go before us…pave the way…open the doors…set things in motion.
In the next few weeks, we had a unit in play. My husband had made an offer. It was accepted and was within my parents’ price-range. My head was spinning. It was a done deal before I could barely breathe. Now, faced with a 700 mile trip both ways every time I traveled, we began the process of readying my parents to move and preparing the unit for them.
The unit was a mess…mustard yellow and slap-you-in-the-face-bright-sky blue. The carpet was filthy…forty-years filthy. The bathrooms weren’t in good shape and my mother deserved better than that. The balcony was not enclosed and they needed that…for sitting and watching and enjoying the corner of Animal Planet and NatGeo that lives just outside our building. The kitchen was a disaster and the appliances were dinosaurs that had fossilized years before.
Somehow, I had to dig deep and find a way to help them where they were and get the unit whipped into shape for moving in. My time frame? Well, in my heart I figured if we could get everything done and them moved by the end of April, we would have a bonified miracle on our hands. Daddy had different ideas. No. October was a better time frame. I smiled. It didn’t feel right to me. Something heavenly was afoot.
My husband and I got a contractor on board who was responsible for the obvious things…remodeling the master bath with pocket door, safety shower doors, walk-in shower to replace the old tub-model, new toilet, new vanity, light-fixture and faucets and shower-fixtures. The floor had to be replaced—it was just awful. The carpet had to be replaced in the entire unit. We needed new blinds in the windows, etc. Strip it. Fix it. Make it right. That was their job.
I took off on the 700 mile trip to my parents’ house. Through gentle conversation and careful deliberation, we decided on an auction company to help with the estate sale and the sale of their house. At 85 and 88, there was so much they loved but so little they needed. Sixty-three years of memories had to be sorted through and decisions had to be made. It wasn’t easy. In the midst of all that, there were doctors visits and blood transfusions, periods of sickness, weakness, anger, sadness, frustration and small explosions. My Mother was an angel. Her Virgo practicality would win the day in those moments when my Pisces Father didn’t want to let go of something.
I would pack for a couple of weeks and then return home to paint, design the kitchen, fuss with nitwit contractors (literally), encourage my husband who was carrying that load all by himself, and try to prepare things for Mother and Daddy. When I got as much done as I could do, I would turn around and drive back, to pack some more, help with more decisions, offer comfort and encouragement and LOVE my parents like I’ve never loved them before.
And there was my sister to consider. Through the years of a fairly dysfunctional life, she had become unusually dependent on my parents. Co-dependency and enabling happens so subtly. But it was there. I encouraged her to move on, to literally move closer to her daughter, where she could start over again, spend time with her grands, and blossom in a way she had never before. Thankfully, she was also resolute. She understood the dynamics and I admired her for that. It wasn’t easy. She had some tough stuff to face and she did. And she did it on her own. I am very proud of her.
I had thought that we could do all this by the end of April. Daddy was pushing for October. In fact, he got angry several times and called me a “tornado.” And then, the auctioneer who was handling the estate and the house sale made the decision for us. “I have you on my calendar for March the 17th and 18th. We’ll have the house sold by the end of March.” Daddy was stunned. So was I. We freaked a bit. We laughed when we realized that it was right around the corner. It was already then mid-February. And then, we kicked into high gear.
Somehow, we got it done. The house was emptied of the “best stuff” with which my parents wanted to surround themselves. The truck was ordered and filled. My husband came to drive it and my parents filled their van. I drove ahead a couple of days to finish painting and the cleaning so everything was ready for them. The contractor had been an absolute nightmare of flooded units above and below the new one. There had been delays and snafus. Somehow, it was done. The day I was due to arrive at night, they finished the carpeting. Whew!
I set about to finish the kitchen, clean the unit, make sure everything was “mother-ready” and find a moment to breathe. I got it done. Meanwhile, Mother and Daddy, and my wonderful husband stopped along the way overnight. Smaller distances were a necessity. Daddy can’t do the long distances anymore. They made it late Tuesday and we had crew due on Wednesday to unload them and get things in their places.
It is now three months later. They are settled in and just today worked with one last handyman to get shelves in two closets so they can unpack the last of the boxes and clear out the front room that’s been used to store them. It is almost finished and they look so pleased. Everyday, they express thanks to us and thanks to God for bringing them here…for preparing the new home…for making this last adventure a good one.
God is like that…you know? Sometimes that Presence is just working behind the scenes making our lives work in wondrous ways. Sometimes that Presence works through others. Sometimes that Presence works through unknown means…and life enfolds and presents itself to us in all God’s richness and glory. Sometimes, that Light surprises…And it is always done in such a perfect way.
Hindsight helps us see how that Presence has been at work. It wouldn’t be as precious if it were obvious. That Presence still catches us off guard…causes us to catch our collective Breath…catches us unbeknownst…catches us. And we smile. We feel the warmth of that Present Face who looks in favor on us, even though we don’t deserve it. We thank God that God loves us, holds us, protects us, goes before us and puts the right people and circumstances in our pathway. And yes…as my sweet husband so often says, ‘It is all good.’