The big family meeting, and a future move

I've dreaded posting. We have been going through a tremendous change here, and I have struggled repeatedly how to share it. I have several drafts started. I wonder if I'll even post this.  Well, I need to start somewhere, eh? So, let's go...

I wrote here in November that my husband and I want to move to Peru, to retire next summer. When I started caring for my mother here almost five years ago, I didn't dream it would last so long, and hadn't anticipated this day. Still, it arrived.

My brother and sister came here over the holidays, and we had a family meeting, with Mom. I told her I am leaving early summer for Peru. She had about ten seconds where she looked shocked and a tiny bit emotional, then quietly listened. My brother held her hand as he talked about what he offered - to have her live in his home with him and his wife. My sister talked about how she would like to have Mom in an assisted living home there, though her own health (advanced rheumatoid arthritis) and job and climate make it less than ideal. We said my daughter offered to have her in Wisconsin. So, as of the end of the meeting, she was - shockingly! - accepting of moving to the Southwest with my brother.

I was flabbergasted.  When I expect graciousness, she is negative. When I expect ugliness and pleading and negativity, like with this move, she is lovely and accepting.  Wow.

She has continued to be (mostly) OK in our visits since then. Since I had been talking about Peru, she knew it was a deep desire of ours, and a strong intention - she just now learned the "when".  I am still dumbfounded that she hasn't begged or pushed back yet.

She is anxious about little things.  Getting on the plane - that is, physically stepping onto the plane from the jetway. Will she get lost in my brother's house. Who will dress her in the mornings. OK, those aren't really little things - but they show she is thinking through her life, how it will be, and I think that is excellent.

We've had some vacillations, though.  My brother called one day to tell me he was having "second thoughts".  This was extremely frustrating, since Mom was now counting on this option. It is understandable that he would be concerned about the impact on his family - but BOY do I wish he had thought about that PRIOR to making this offer (and being the big hero of the family meeting). (I think he has come back on track to offer to have her there with/near him.)  Also, Mom has had some time when she thought maybe she could just stay in the assisted living home where she lives - but we talked about the extreme loneliness and the importance of having a health-care advocate who is local (among other things).

It has raised some family issues, however. I am the one with Power of Attorney for legal matters, as well as the co-trustee, which means I have the purse strings. I will need to make financial arrangements to ensure my brother has funds to care for Mom - but he strongly strongly wants to have the controls passed to him. Unfortunately (?), we can't make changes now, since Mom has a diagnosis of dementia. He feels belittled and out of control, which I guess I understand, but he needs to learn to trust that it will be OK. We will devise some strategies to make sure he is very well funded to handle her needs.

I am deeply grateful for the willingness of him and his wife to do this. It's a huge deal - whether she is in the house especially, or even to have her in a nearby facility.

I am also tremendously relieved that I have an end-date in sight, so we can start this new chapter in our lives.

Of course, Mom finishes each chat with comments about how this may not even happen, that she eagerly hopes she dies before this comes to pass.  She continues to be ready and hoping for her life to end, the sooner the better.  And I say, yes, Mom, that's true.  Let's see.

Lunch, my shlumpy clothes, and a wistful look back

I asked Mom if she'd like to go out to lunch.  I'd been away from her a bit, between a long weekend and a medical procedure, though we've talked daily. But she's been feeling a bit neglected, so I wanted our visit today to be a bit special.

We went to one of her favorites, Olive Garden.  As I looked around, I was struck by the way our clothes and our companions brand us.  I saw tables of apparent co-workers, dressed well, or at least 'business casual', talking intensely.  I imagined their conversation ... about interest rates, or project deadlines, or complaining about the boss or the long work days.

I, however, was with the 90-year-old, who came in shuffling extremely slowly with her walker.  We had little to say, because we'd already exhausted our usual topics. Instead of a nice knit with a silk jacket and perfect jewelry as I'd worn before, today I wore my shlumpy work-around-the-house, worn-at-the-collar grey velour outfit.

For a moment, I was jealous. I felt ... unimportant. I remembered the days when I went to lunch with co-workers, when we filled our table with laughter or urgent discussion or complaints about all the stress. When I looked good and was valued by my company, my boss, my peers, my clients. I was an expert. I was respected.  I  influenced senior decision-makers. As I look back, it seems that I used to be important, in my profession.

A few years ago, I chose a voluntary layoff from this Fortune 50 company. I wanted to do more in community service, and supporting my mother and my grandchildren.  I honestly am SO very very glad, then and now.  Though my work now does not have the value placed on it by salary or corporate world, I remind myself that I touch the lives of humans. I bring meaning to real people. I make a difference in a way that my Senior Program Manager job never did. Never could.

And just maybe just a couple of them looked at a relaxed woman lunching with her aged mother, sitting in a comfortable outfit, and were just a little jealous.