I knew Christmas would be hard on us after Mom’s passing. But I didn’t really expect that it would be THAT hard. It was especially hard on my dad. He was desperately lonely, and had a bout of depression to the point that he felt sick pretty much the entire season. By Christmas day I knew.
Dad had to move closer to me. He’s seven hours away right now, and that is so hard, for many reasons.
At first when I brought up the subject of moving, Dad was very resistant. Change is hard, especially for seniors, and he liked his apartment, his nurses, and his church. I had talked things over with my two sisters and brother, and they all agreed that moving Dad was the thing to do–he has to be close to one of us, and moving him closest to me would be convenient for all of us. Dad said he trusted my judgment and that he’d move if that was what we wanted, but I could tell that he was reluctant.
Until around two weeks ago, when he called me. He said, “I had a long talk with my overnight nurse last night. She helped me realize that I need to be close to my family. I’m ready to move. I’d like to move as soon as possible.”
Let me tell you, that was the thing I needed to hear. I put the wheels in motion quickly, and last Wednesday I put down a deposit on an apartment at a retirement community 10 minutes away from my house. When I called Dad to tell him about his new apartment, all he kept saying was, “We get to be a family again.”
I’m moving Dad in a little over a week. The Uhaul trailer is rented, his new phone number is in place, and all the things that accompany moving are in motion. He’s beyond excited, and we talk about his big move every night. We’re so excited to attend the same church and to be able to visit every day, not just once every other month. My kids can’t wait to have Grandpa so close. And he’s right.
We get to be a family again.