Thoughts about my Aunt Ruth

I am in the process of finding a new assisted living facility for my 85 year old aunt, Ruth.  I think about the train I've ridden to this place where I am her sole resource for the varied and increasing needs of her life as she ages.  It occurs to me to wonder how things came to be as they are now.  There is something about living that never seems to stop surprising me.  It's mostly because I open my eyes every day ready to live the day as it comes.  For someone who was once known to plan and organize to perfection, living so much more in the moment as I do is the most surprising change of all.  Of course, I still believe in taking care of necessary business so as to be prepared as much as possible, within reason, for whatever happens.  But I don't really plan my life.  I live it.

Perhaps Aunt Ruth's generosity to my parents and siblings when we returned to California after the end of World War II with no place to live laid the beginnings of the path where she has come into my care now.  I don't know the details of why my parents decided to leave Kansas City (again) after my next younger brother Roy was born, but found our way back and ended up at some point before 1947 in San Francisco.  We spent several months living with my aunt, her husband and two cousins, Richard and David.  There were six of us, my parents, my sister Caroline, older brother Ross, Roy Jr. and me.  Soon, my dad found work in some sort of industrial complex near Vallejo and we moved into company housing, left-over military family housing from the war, probably. 

Now Aunt Ruth is alone since Uncle Al died several years ago, and my negligent cousins live thousands of miles away.  Al's daughter moved Aunt Ruth from Benecia to Modesto, and four years ago my aunt fell, broke her right femur high up the bone and was in a rehabilitation hospital for over three months.  In that time, her step-daughter sold a large portion of her household goods and made arrangements for her to move into an assisted living facility.  I wasn't involved in the decision-making, neither was my aunt.  Justifiably, she feels she was "dumped" in what has become an expensive, borderline negligent residence.  When I helped my aunt put a stop to the somewhat questionable financial manipulations her step-daughter was pursuing, the step-daughter stopped showing up altogether.  In the meantime, there have been decisions to make, sensible plans to put into place, and financial realities to face.  I drive nearly two hours to see her every other week-end (and two hours back), take care of occasional small things she needs and generally try to keep her in touch with living.

So now we face needing to make a change to lower costs, and Aunt Ruth decided it was time to make a serious change.  She has become increasingly displeased with various circumstances where she is living, and knew she would either have to accept a room-mate or find a less expensive place to live.  She chose to ask me to find a place much closer to me, either nearer my home or my job.  Since the job is in the Sacramento area and her medical insurance is with Kaiser, Sacramento is the choice.  I think I've found a place, and am working through the process of making it happen.

All this leads me to think about the needs of those who can no longer live alone for a variety of reasons, whether part of the aging process or other physical dependency issues.  What I have seen in the last four years, coupled with my previous nursing home visit experiences over most of my life, makes my heart hurt.  It takes a great deal to stir me to anger, but the frequent careless attitudes, poor behavior, lack of respect and attention, corporate greed of the for-profit HMO's and senior care facilities are enough to move me to action and very strong passion.  Perhaps I cannot change the lives of a large number of dependent seniors, but I can change my aunt's life for the better.  I can spend a little time visiting with some of the other residents around her and bring smiles to their faces and warmth to their lives with hugs and real love.

So the picture you see is my Aunt Ruth.  She's quite a lady and I'm glad to be present to and for her.  She brings such a lot to my life that I am glad I am not missing.  As long as she lives, she opens a door for me to share, to laugh, to love and to learn.  I am grateful to be part of her life.