Memory Lane

While H. wrote and Figgy romped around Times Square and Soho with her cousin, M. [visiting from Florida], I was on the West Orange assisted-living tour with Sis and her husband, Don, checking out places for Dad.

We found one we like--Emeritus--and we feel good about it. We wanted to find a place closer to me or Sis, and we both like that this one is about 15 minutes from Montclair. We put down a deposit to hold the studio apartment. We plan to bring Dad there Wednesday, from the rehab place, so he can make the ultimate decision, and the nurse can do the care-level assessment while we have lunch with her and the physical therapist, the care coordinator and the marketing guys. It touched me that Mike, the marketing guy who gave us the tour today, asked what Dad's favorite snacks are.

"Black licorice and dark chocolate," we said. Dad has loved those since we were girls. Mike said he'd be sure to have lots of black licorice Wednesday. He said that when another man, a Yankees fan, moved in recently, he went to Modell's to get him some team stuff and asked the chef to make him a really big bacon cheeseburger and fries, with a milkshake. "We wanted to hook up his plate for him," Mike said with a smile, "to make him feel welcome."

This place is about $1,000 cheaper monthly than the one we looked at Sunrise in Cresskill on Friday, which was $7,000 or more. What do people do when they have no money saved? ["They live in apartments," Sis said.] My Dad is a saver. Too bad he will spend it this way instead of having gone back to Genoa, where his mother was from, or jetted to Paris, Milan, Tuscany, Capri, Athens. But truthfully, he never chose to travel far. He chose to travel through life instead.

Forget about It
At both places, they have special sections for people with Alzheimer's and dementia. Dad doesn't have that--he's still pretty sharp. But Donna, the woman who runs the one at Sunrise, was so proud of her section that she wanted us to see it. It was very nice. We thought of our Aunt Claire, who never had kids with our beloved Uncle Anthony [Dad's brother] and was very close to us all--she ended up on an Alzheimer's floor in Connecticut. It was heartbreaking.

Today, Donna showed us a special corner in the "Reminiscence Neighborhood," where a lacy wedding gown with long train was hanging on the wall. Next to it, a box held a ruffled white garter, an artificial bouquet, a ring bearer's pillow. And then there was a list of questions for the facilitator to ask, such as What was your husband/wife's name? and What month did you get married? She also showed us some fur stoles up on hooks, and a little chest with drawers, for jewelry the residents could try on. Donna opened the drawers to show us but they were empty, because the residents take the bracelets and necklaces and forget to put them back.

So much to absorb in one day. So much. It is one thing to hold your child's life in your hands--to be responsible for her safety, her meals, her baths, her care, her play dates--and quite another to hold your parent's life in your hands. Thank God Sis's hand is cupped over mine.

Silver lining: I've just decided exactly what to do with my extra or outdated costume jewelry. If there are older women who want some beads and baubles, I have just the treasures for them. I have precisely what they need to bring back the thrill of receiving and wearing beautiful jewelry.

And if I can help jog someone's memory about the pleasure of accessorizing, my work here on earth is done.