Where Have All the Grandparents Gone?

So yesterday was designated visit the grandparents day for the Ds. D1 is off to Vegas this am for her Spring Break, and D2 is headed back to Gville as her Break is ending. Ah, Spring Break...what a fine time to be young...

Wifey begged off, as her hip was bothering her, and our great neighbor Santi, who happens to be a rheumatologist, injected her bursa and told her to stay off the joint for awhile.

So off D2 and I went, to Brickell to fetch D1, and then to Delray where we met Ancient Mom and my sister and brother in law for some deli sandwiches and reunion talk.

My Mom was in good spirits, addled a bit as usual, but unfailingly pleasant and hilarious. We ran into my cousin Jeff, and his stepmother, and my Mom allowed as how she never liked the lady, since "she replaced my sister." Later on, back at her condo, the girls asked my mother about meeting my father. They were 15. Then came talk of her mother in law, Jenny. "Fuck her!" my Mom said. "I did. I outlived her!" Ah, Grandma Sunny...the D2 nearly peed their pants.

Then it was South to my in laws, and a decidedly LESS pleasant experience. My father in law's decline is precipitous. I last saw him about 2 months ago, and since then his Alzheimer's has progressed noticeably, despite the drug Aracept he takes to slow its progress. He never got our of bed, and was wearing old long underwear. He only gets out an hour or two per day.

Their condo, which Wifey and I own, looks awful. Both of these folks were impeccable housekeepers -- there was even a funny/sad tale 10 years ago about my father in law's constant floor washing leading to a tumble my mother in law took...but no more.

The A/C was on the blink, and I called to schedule a repair appointment. In the mean time, I opened windows, to let the lovely lake breeze in. My mother in law shrieked to close them --she couldn't close them after I left.

My father in law just kept lamenting over and over how Wifey had abandoned him, and she was his only hope. I tried to explain that she was just out of commission for a short time -- she would soon resume her task of scheduling appointments for him, ordering medical equipment, and keeping the condo in repair -- but he wasn't getting it.

So I thought I had it rough with my mother. Ha. As D1 noted, she's like a pleasant spirit -- floating around us -- but happy and pleasant. My in laws -- MUCH more here, in our face, demanding, and miserable.

My cousin Jeff hadn't seen his aunt (my mother) in quite some time. His mother Lorraine, my mom's closest sister, died young, before she was 70. "Oh God," Jeff noted --"that's what would have happened to my mother?"

I answered with my tremendous grasp of the obvious: it seems folks die too young or too old -- it rarely seems like the right time.

We headed back to Brickell, and parked. The Ds and I went into the Irish Pub that is in D1's building's first floor. It was packed with young folks, on a charity pub crawl. No one seemed older than 30. It was a welcome reprieve from God's Waiting Room.

I ordered a Guiness, and the exotic looking waitress, of unclear ethnicity, brought me 2 pints. I drank them both. I toasted the Ds, and their youth, and their lives spread out happy and wide ahead of them.

Old folks don't live in Miami anymore, except in pockets, like Aventura, or the Latin ones who still live in Hialeah and Little Havana.

The Northeastern retirees head to Boca, and Delray, and Boynton. Young folks migrate to Miami Dade.

And we have 3 to care for -- a duty and responsibility --but not a pleasant one.