Unsettled Times

My grandmother, dead nearly 20 years, used to say that if you wan't peace and quiet, it was available one place: in the grave.

She had five children and now only two are alive. Her youngest, Florence, is 78, and in poor health. She lives in an ACLF in Hollywood. The other survivor is my mother, who was the third born, and is now nearly 89.

We've had Mom move in with us, to try to get her more ambulatory. Her hip is arthritic, and left her barely able to walk. Just yesterday I helped her into my pool, for some water exercise --something she loves. Had I not been there to help her up off the pool's coping --she'd still be sitting there right now.

She's mentally sharp, and told me she's none too happy about her physical state. I told her she's already won the longevity contest in her family (I'd be shocked if Florence lives 10 more years), and every extra day was a bonus.

We've started taking her on our evening walks --Wifey takes the dogs, and I push her in a wheelchair. It's comical --both Wifey and Mom talk to me simultaneously, about different topics. Mom is typically is about 2 conversations behind...

As I sit here this early Sunday, she just came in with her walker, my 2 dogs trailing behind her. We've bought her favorite foods (pickled herring, bagels, tuna salad) and she's been eating great. She tells me she feels like she's staying at the Catskills resorts of yesteryear...

So --here's hoping that the Miami team of medical pros Wifey is assembling (2 orthopedic surgeons, a physical therapist, and a chiropractor) can bring Mom some relief.

In the meantime, we've adjusted to the strong scent of Ben Gay in the mornings...