My three sisters and I grew up believing our mom could do anything.
She could refinish a
table, drive a stick shift and play a Beethoven
piano sonata. Age didn’t slow her much. In
her 70s, she took up badminton. At 84, she
went swimming with dolphins.
Marcia Kaye and her mother Elinor.
photo by Andrew Stawicki
So it took us all a while to notice that Mom
needed more help at home, and it took her a
while to accept this. Only after she slipped off
her icy porch did she reluctantly allow us to
get a snow removal service. We hired a weekly
housekeeper; Mom cut her back to twice a
month. We arranged for grocery delivery, but
Mom balked at the premium prices. Instead
she’d call me and say, “Could you please pick
me some milk next time you visit? And maybe
some cereal?”
She lived a long drive away. When we visited,
I’d be frantically preparing a few days’ worth of
meals, while my husband would be fixing the
old plumbing or shoring up the listing carport.
We invited her to move in with us, but she
didn’t want to be a burden. Keeping Mom in
her house became a part-time job and a fulltime
worry.
Always up for an outing, she agreed one day
last fall to have lunch with my younger sister
and me at a retirement residence in Aurora,
Ontario. Admiring the elegant dining room at
Park Place Manor, Mom said wonderingly,
“I didn’t know places like this existed.” The
clincher: Her baby grand could move right into
the suite with her.
Since the move in December, Mom is
now 91 and has gained a few much-needed
pounds, looks years younger and is as
independent as ever. Having her so close
has given us a peace of mind we hadn’t
known in years. Our daughters pop over to
see Grandma any time of day or evening—
except at 5 o’clock. That’s when Mom
joins her new friends to work on that day’s
crossword—an activity that for years she did
alone. Now she shares it.
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