We don't live in our little yellow house in the suburbs anymore. We live in da city. A straight 4-mile shot to the White House. Not that I would ever shoot at the White House! Get off my back, FBI!
Josh, Pushkin, and I have moved here to provide companionship and hot meals to my 91-year-old recently widowed father-in-law. We are here for the duration. A year? 6 months? 5 years? It doesn't matter.
We have moved in and out a couple of times since my mother-in-law was sent home to die in early September. It was an easy and obvious decision when my mother-in-law was dying, but it was harder in the immediate aftermath. My father-in-law wanted some alone time. He used his alone time to get pneumonia and ended up in the hospital half dead.
We were all, "Duuuuuude, you need us to live with you." And he was all, "I don't want to be a bother to you! Also, you eat too much food! And who threw out my gefilte fish?"
I am not lying at all. There was a heated, high-decibel conversation about the gefilte fish, which Josh had thrown out because it was REALLY REALLY OLD.
It's really very funny to hear one's husband and one's father-in-law argue about gefilte fish. That right there made up for all the trouble of marrying into a Jewish family.
Anyway, it's all been decided now. We live here. We need to put all our shit in storage, because there's no room for it here. We will rent our house and try to bank the money we will save. It's a good opportunity to pare down our possessions, and at the same time it will probably extend my father-in-law's life. He will eat better, we'll notice if he looks peaked, and we'll pick him up off the floor if he falls down. It's a win-win situation, right?
I'm not going to lie, it is really hard for me (and Josh) to leave the little house where we have lived for 24 years. But, I think it's going to be okay.
Meanwhile, my own parents have been stable and healthy-ish, so that's good. There have hardly been any crises at all, except for a minor one on the day that Pam The Aide called me to say that Mom had decided to clean out the refrigerator and had thrown out all Pam's food AND stopped up the sink AND created controversy by insisting she would use the toilet plunger to unclog the sink which Pam considered very unsanitary.
When I called my siblings to report this hilarious scenario, each one of them had the exact same reaction: "What the hell? Mom was cleaning out the refrigerator?"
She never did that when she was healthy. Why is she doing it now that she has Alzheimers?