When Mother decided to move from her apartment to the health care center in the wake of her 98th birthday, I pitched in to give her a hand. I went down the week of the move and here is my story.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
On Sunday I took a leisurely drive down I-5 on a stunning day through miles of blooming almond groves. I by-passed the Grapevine and L.A. in favor of the Tehachapi Pass, crossed the desert, and landed in Redlands for the night.
On Monday morning I passed through the windmills outside of Palm Springs, crossed the many desert miles to Phoenix and arrived around 2 p.m. My only regret was that I did not get up early enough to stop for a date shake in Palm Desert.
Monday and Tuesday
I had planned ahead and talked to various people at Royal Oaks. The room that Mother was moving to was ready to be occupied, so I hoped to talk her into going there to spend the night. There were chairs, a bed, and a TV there already. The next day we could orgainize the rest of the move. She agreed. I stayed in her apartment. On Tuesday I took over clothes and furniture and tried to make things comfortable. All went very smoothly.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
What was left, I took to the Thrift Shop (six or seven trips), a shelter for battered women and children, the local food bank, or sorted through and kept, shredded, or discarded. And, of course, there was the paperwork and plenty of conversations with Mother’s friends and well-wishers.
As you can see, everything fell into place. The staff even brought Mother a beautiful quilt for her bed after she had explained that she did not have an appropriate bedspread.
All has ended very well.