by Ann Robson

Convincing my mother that she should move from the house that had been her home for most of her married life was one of the hardest things my brother and I ever had to do.

She most definitely did not want to move from the place that held many happy memories. We weren’t able to get her to see that memories are portable, that she could take them wherever she went. We were concerned for her physical safety, because she lived in a two-story house that was beginning to show its age. She had been burglarized twice, fortunately not harmed either time, and she was more and more unsteady on her feet.

We tried every communication trick we knew — suggesting, pleading, badgering, guilting, begging, then downright orneriness (we could be just as stubborn as she.) We did this over several months before making any progress. I think she knew we were right but wasn’t quite ready to give in.

We explored housing options and found an apartment with reasonable rent and a waiting list. We put her name in the lottery, and before long she found herself moving to nice, one-bedroom apartment in a convenient location. Somewhat reluctantly she settled in, surrounded by some of her favorite possessions. We had been advised not to try and sell the house too quickly as knowing the house was still there provides a psychological safety net. However, she fooled us. After a week in the apartment, she asked if the house had sold yet. So my brother listed it and it was sold within another week.

Then we had to pay for our great idea by clearing out the house and getting it ready for a new owner. The bulk of this task fell to my brother as I lived several hundred miles away. This was almost as hard on us, as it had been on her — we were closing up our childhood home, scene of many memories for us also.

Later, as her health continued to deteriorate, the topic of a nursing home became necessary. We were very lucky as her doctor had admitted her to a two-week evaluation stay at a gerontology unit of a major hospital. Near the end of the two weeks, the staff held a family meeting and gave her the assessment that she shouldn’t, indeed couldn’t, live alone. She accepted their decision. Whew!

The process of finding a nursing home was not terribly difficult. We had a few in mind in a geographic location that would make visiting easy. I made unannounced visits to some of the places we’d listed and narrowed our list to two. Our second choice became available first and thus her next move was set.

I spent a hot, humid week clearing out her apartment and while I knew we had done the right thing, making decisions about what should be given to family and friends, what should be stored for future use by her grandchildren, and what should be given to a thrift shop wasn’t easy.

What did we learn from this? When possible, we should each make our own plans if/when the time comes to leave our homes. We should do this before there’s a critical situation. It’s much easier on our families and we still have some control over our own lives. I was very lucky that my brother and I agreed on most things. There are many families where such agreement is not present. Making our own decisions helps prevent family dissension.