How Do You Manage Your Senior's Finances...and a Few Other Questions and Insights

Several months ago, I was contacted by a writer for NerdWallet.com.  She gave me a lengthy list of questions and asked if I would be willing to provide insights to help her readers who were caring for seniors.  I agreed and spent a couple of days compiling thoughtful answers to her questions.  She didn't use any of them in her story.  

Since I put so much time and energy into the information, I thought I would post it here, so that you, dear readers, can avail yourself of any insights you might glean.  So here goes...

1) Please tell me a little bit about yourself. Is your grandmother your mother? Did she raise you?

I have been married 42 years, and we have no children of our own. My father died in October 1999.  He was an only child, and his mother - my then 87-year-old grandmother - was still living alone in her own home, driving, and doing pretty well for someone nearly 90.

My mother helped my grandmother with many things - as did my sister and I...but Mother remarried in February 2002. Mother traveled a lot in her motorhome...in fact, she and her husband left after their wedding for a 6-week trip along the East Coast. That summer, my grandmother fell and required 3 months of therapy in a skilled nursing facility.  My mother was traveling with her new husband, and the care of my grandmother became my responsibility.

Mother was planning to spend the FOLLOWING summer (2003) traveling, and just as she was leaving, my grandmother again became ill and required a stay for rehab at the nursing home.  Mother handed me my grandmother's checkbook and said, "You're going to need Power of Attorney." So for the next 10 years, *I* was my grandmother's guardian.

My sister, brother (who is deceased) and I were fortunate to grow up in the same community as ALL four of our grandparents, and we were very close...we saw them on almost a daily basis.  My grandmother did not rear me...but we were very close, and she was very much a mother figure to me in the last 10 years...especially given how intertwined our lives were - and the fact that I was somewhat her sole caregiver.

In 2009, my sister's daughter had her first child.  My niece was a single mother attending college, and my husband and I kept the baby while she went to classes.  This morphed into us keeping our great-nephew for longer periods of time. By 2012, my niece had given birth to two more babies and gotten married, and my husband and I were heavily involved in assisting the whole family. So my "sandwich" was my great-nephews and great-niece - and my grandmother. 

My grandmother died in 2013...and the "sandwich" shifted from caring for her and the babies to caring for my mother-in-law (who is now 90) and these three children. This situation is not quite as "involved" as it was...the children are now 4, 5, and 7 - and all in school - and my husband is primarily responsible for his mother, so my responsibilities there are negligible.  But there are times when we have all three children and "Grandma E" together at the same time...and the dynamics of a "Sandwich Generation" situation are definitely there.

Our SUV has three car seats and a handicapped sticker.  When my grandmother was still alive, I used to joke that our car often contained a walker and car seats...and diapers and Depends!  For a "childless" couple, we are well versed in all things NickJr., baby - AND Medicare and geriatric!

My mother was diagnosed late in September 2015 with stage 3C Ovarian cancer, and she began chemotherapy immediately.  Two treatments in, the oncologist said the drugs were not working and the tumors were growing rapidly. She was hospitalized New Year's Day and placed in Hospice Care three days later. She died on January 12, 2016.  Prior to her diagnosis, my mother was an active 76-year-old great-grandmother who drove her own 40+-foot motorhome (with tow car) from coast to coast.  If she fit the "sandwich" mold, it was only the context of my caring for her needs those last few days - and attending to the children and fielding their questions when they would visit her.


2) What made you want to start your blog? 

 I first wrote about my grandmother on a personal blog after several frustrating encounters with insurance companies over the Medicare Part D Prescription Drug coverage, beginning in 2005.  I have never experienced anything more exasperating in my life...and at the end of the day, I had a Medicare rep from Dallas, Texas, on speed dial. This woman would become one of my most trusted contacts over the next few years until she retired...and I always had to reach out to her for clarification each fall as I selected my grandmother's prescription coverage plan.

In 2008, when my grandmother had to go to the nursing home for a third time in five years for "rehab," I decided that my experiences might be helpful to someone else - and I needed a place to vent. So I started "The Deli" blog. At that time, I was not in a "sandwich" per se...but I had friends who were, and I hoped that by sharing my experiences about MY grandmother, I could encourage others to open a dialog about THEIR situations.


What type of support have you found in the blogging community?

To be honest, I have not received as much support as I hoped.  I participated in some forums for caregiving and the Sandwich Generation on the AARP website for a while. And I all but begged some people to share THEIR story with me in a format that I could put on my "Deli" blog.  But at the end of the day, I think people are just too tired and busy with their "sandwiches."  If you are not a writer already - and inclined to document your experiences - it's hard to make time for spilling your guts to someone else. 

Having said this, I have SEVERAL friends who are currently dealing with the care of aging relatives - if not a "sandwich" situation - and I hope to maybe resurrect the blog a bit and get some of them involved in the dialog.  We will see what happens!

3) Were you the only one in the family in charge of your grandmother’s finances?

From July 2003 until her death, I was in charge of my grandmother's finances.  At first, I let her handle her own checking account, but I soon discovered that her idea of "balancing the checkbook" was calling the bank every couple of weeks and asking, "What's my balance?"  She would write that in her register and move forward. The impetus for me taking over her checking account came when she had to go to the nursing home for one of her rehab stints.  She had misunderstood the people at DHS and thought she was allowed to have more than a $2000 balance in her checking account and could still qualify for full Medicare/Medicaid assistance for a nursing home stay.  She had just more than $2100 in her checking account, but that was enough to cause a fee of $150 per day for about 5 days until she "spent down" her assets.  After this costly mix-up, she agreed that maybe I should handle her checking account.

Like many seniors in this country, my grandmother worked very hard all of her life, but she never made a lot of money.  She received a meager Social Security income each month that barely covered her food, utilities and medication co-pays. She lived in a home owned by my parents, so she had no mortgage or rent payment. She owned her very old car outright. I wrote checks for her groceries, her weekly hair appointments, and her church tithes.  Somehow, she always had a few dollars left at the end of each month!

The REAL WORK came in making sure that my grandmother was sufficiently covered for Medicare/Medicaid and Medicare Part D, which took a lot of time and was incredibly confusing.  How seniors who do not have an advocate manage this maze of papers and regulations and rigmarole is beyond me!  And don't even get me started on admitting someone to a nursing facility, Assisted Living facility - or even the hospital or Hospice.  The paperwork is astounding. I kept copies of a "cheat sheet" with vital info in my wallet, because it seemed like every other day, I was needing to supply this data to someone for something!  I would just hand them a copy of this information.

Honestly, I don't see a decent way around this.  Perhaps siblings could split the responsibilities financially...but for the most part, one person needs to be handling all of this, so that nothing falls through the cracks.  I think if my sister OR my mother and I had tried to share the management of my grandmother's finances, it would have been even more time consuming and frustrating.


4) You mentioned on Twitter that you were a signer on your grandmother’s account. And you also advised against sharing a bank account with an elder. What made you choose to become a signer? Had you done your research? How did you get informed?

I had to become a signee in order to write checks on my grandmother's account.  As soon as she went into the nursing home and needed an advocate, we signed a card for me to be able to do this.  


5) As a signer what were your privileges on the account?

My name was never on her account...I was merely a "signee." This meant that I could write checks and balance her bank account.  One caveat...when my grandmother died, she had about $130 in her checking account.  I took a death certificate and a copy of my DPOA (Durable Power of Attorney) to the bank and asked to close the account, and they would not allow it.  I was not the "designee" on the account for closing it out.

This is different, apparently, from being the "signee" on a checking account.  I was not designated as the person to close the account - my dad was.  Since he was already dead, the secondary designee was my mother. SHE had to return to the bank with these papers and close the account.  Lesson learned...if you are handling the finances, make sure you are the "designee"...and that you have the proper signatures in place to access a safe deposit box, etc., as well.


6) What approaches did you take with a banking account that worked for you and your family? For example, did you rely on money management tools or software to help you keep track of everything? Or did you choose specific accounts that perhaps offered lower fees?

I did not use specific software...the account was very simple and did not need something like Quickbooks. I did acquire an online banking account, so that I could login and check on things like the auto-drafts and verify that all charges were legitimate and necessary. I would note that I set the account up with my grandmother's name, and one time I locked myself out of the account.  When I called the bank and identified myself, they would not allow me to access the account, because I gave MY name, not hers.  They had to talk to HER for authorization.  She understood NOTHING about online banking...but bless her heart, she authorized me! After that, any time I called on her behalf, I pretended to be "her" on the phone!


7) Did you at any point consider a power of attorney or was that given to someone else in the family?

I was my grandmother's Durable Power of Attorney (DPOA).  This is different from a medical Power of Attorney, which only gives you authority to speak for the person in medical situations. The DPOA is more encompassing. I downloaded a DPOA form online and we signed it and had it notarized. We had to provide copies of this document many times over the years for several different things - applications for assistance, cashing her life insurance policy, and more. I would consider this a vital document to have on hand if you are managing any business activities for a friend or loved one.


8) Emotionally, how difficult was it to handle your grandmother’s finances? How did you manage to juggle those with your family’s?

I probably spent a couple of days a month managing my grandmother's finances. Since she had very little money, there wasn't much to manage. I can see where for someone with substantial assets, this could be quite a lot of work.  The real time consumer was the vast number of papers and forms related to Medicare, Medicaid and Medicare Part D Prescription Drug coverage.  

I cannot begin to calculate the hours I spent on those things. It can be emotionally draining to manage another person's finances while juggling your own family responsibilities.  But all of this is emotionally draining on many levels.  You learn to cope...and hopefully, you have others who can encourage you.  This is why I created the blog...to encourage others and say to them, "See...you're not crazy...look what happened to me!"  Most of the people I hear from say, "These are exactly the things that are happening to ME!" Senior care is universal in many ways.

 
9) Did you make any financial mistakes along the way that perhaps our readers could learn from? (for example overdrafts or missed payments while you tried to learn how to balance it all)

I do think there was an overdraft once when I paid a bill a day or two before my grandmother's Social Security deposit was made. It seems like the fee was about $30...which I paid out of my personal account. I know that never happened again! I don't think my grandmother ever knew about the overdraft.


10) What advice would you have (emotionally and financially) for anyone who has recently become a member of the Sandwich Generation?

You are not alone.  That may not help, but perhaps knowing that there ARE people who are willing and able to offer support will be comforting. Depending on the age of your senior and the circumstances, I would strongly encourage the investigation of long term care insurance.

I know families who have scraped together funds to pay for the care of a loved one who MUST move to an assisted living or skilled care facility.  The cost can be anywhere from $3000 per month and up...and that is just for the facility. 

If you go through the posts on this blog you will see that I have outlined the "extra expenses" that might be incurred...and they add up in a hurry!  No one wants to be in the position of telling Grandma she can't have her hair and nails done every week - or any other "extras" - because there is no money.  And most people don't want to have to liquidate every asset their loved one has in order to pay for nursing home care.


11) Do you have a contact that you met in the blogging community or a friend who may have more to say on this subject? I would gladly appreciate an introduction. 

I do not have anyone to recommend; however, my mother wrote a book about HER experience with HER parents and the nursing home…When Heads and Hearts Collide.   I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone who has been charged with the care of a senior citizen.  It’s only $10 postage paid, and you can order with PayPal directly the sidebar on this blog.
 
Because of the things I experienced through all of this, I also wrote a book...What to Say and Do...When You Don't Know What to Say and Do. This book can also be purchased via the sidebar on this blog.

If YOU have questions...or a particular issue...that you would like to see addressed on this blog, please contact me.  We are all in this together, and as time permits, I will gladly address any and all inquiries and comments.  Hang in there!

Serving a Purpose

I know...it's been a while since my last post.  Frankly, I have wondered just what I am supposed to say here, now that my Mam-ma Polly has passed.  And yet, it seems that we are still very much in the middle of the "Sandwich Generation" as my mother-in-law nears her 9th decade of life.  Each week brings a new ailment of sorts...nothing all that significant at this point, thank goodness...but little aggravations (for her) all the same.

The children have come to understand that on any given Sunday, "Grandma E" may not be able to attend church with us.  At first, this upset Timothy...and he was very concerned about "Grandma E" (who is very much a beloved "great-grandmother" to these children)and why she didn't come with us.  But as time has passed, he has seemed to accept that there are good Sundays - and those that are not so good - and he and Zola appear to be more readily accepting of the latter.

At the same time, one of our sisters-in-law, Laney, is dealing with the challenges of her 95-year-old mother's placement in a skilled care nursing facility (3+ hours away in another city) after she suffered a stroke and a fall.  One evening shortly before Christmas, Laney e-mailed me to describe what she felt was a very disturbing incident.  Laney's mother cannot see, but she persuaded someone at the facility to call her daughter.  When Laney answered, her mother went on a rampage...she could not stay at this facility any longer...she could most certainly not be there for Christmas...she just would not have any of this...Laney absolutely HAD to do something.  Laney mostly listened...and when she hung up, she was totally rattled and upset by the call.

As I read the message and heard what Laney's mother had said, a sense of familiarity washed over me.  I quickly replied to my sister-in-law and told her, "I am no doctor, but I am fairly certain that you have just described a TIA (mini-stroke).  I am betting that things will be totally different tomorrow...and your mom might not even remember that she called you. At the very least, I'm betting she will be subdued...and possibly even very tired.  Mam-ma Polly did this same thing SEVERAL times."  I offered some advice about how to respond to these rants...and I shared with her some wonderful advice that a dear elderly friend of mine once gave my mother..."One day, all of the 'bad stuff' will fade away, and you will be left with only good memories."  I also told Laney that I miss my grandmother terribly...that I would even settle for one of her rants - just to hear her voice again.  Quite literally...this, too, shall pass.

Laney responded quickly and thanked me.  She expressed how much it helped to hear from someone who had "been there, done that".  She had not considered a TIA, but once I mentioned it, she felt I was probably right...and knowledge is power.  Understanding that this might be the culprit helped to answer her question of "Why would Mother do this?" - and that seemed to set everything in the proper perspective...and prepare her for any future "surprise" phone calls.  And just as predicted, her mother has not mentioned the phone call at all.

It felt good to help...to share what I had learned in a positive way...and to reassure someone else that "you are not alone in this." And while Greg was with me every step of the way in my journey with Mam-ma Polly, there have been times recently when I have reminded him of incidents in connection to situations with his own mother.  We have found it helpful - and somewhat comforting - to remember these things and say, "Oh, yeah...that's not so unique after all.  It may be screwy and frustrating - but not so unusual!"

Today, I spent some time talking with one of our dearest friends, whose mother is rapidly declining and in need of skilled care of some sort. We have known and loved this person since childhood.  So he feels comfortable sharing his concerns and frustrations with us about his mom's situation. 

My heart breaks for anyone going through these tough experiences.  But at the same time, I am glad that I am able to offer some encouragement - and maybe a helpful piece or two of advice.  If sharing anything that we experienced with Mam-ma Polly or my maternal grandparents during their nursing home stay and decline can be helpful to someone else, it somehow makes me feel like all of that serves some sort of purpose.

Choosing a facility for your parents/grandparents IS a daunting task.  Navigating their phone calls and confusion and frustration is highly stressful and frustrating to the caregiver.  Dealing with administrators, government agencies, banks, lawyers, doctors, and realtors is daunting and can make one's head spin!  Having someone who can say, "This is what I did" or "Here's how we handled that...and why" or "My mom did the same thing" can be so helpful. 

I cannot "fix" any of these situations.  Try as I might, I could not fix my grandmother's issues...and I knew all along that I was not supposed to.  I did the best I could, which is all anyone can expect.  But sometimes, we don't even know what THAT is, on our own.  The helpful support and encouragement of a friend who has walked this road can be incredibly comforting.  Or at least I hope it is. 

So I feel like I am serving a purpose...and reaping SOMETHING good from all that we have experienced already.  I told our friend who called that our situation felt crazy at times, but in the scheme of things, it was not that troublesome.  Mam-ma Polly was healthy and relatively well until about 36 hours before she died.  She never became combative or violent, as some do.  She had her "moments"...but it could have been so much worse.  And I thank God for this grace and mercy!

I would like to think that as my mother-in-law and my own mother age, and possibly decline, I would handle these situations with calm and confidence.  But I know better.  There is nothing fun or easy about watching your parents age and decline...much less dealing with the issues that often accompany this.  But as I told our friend, we are not alone.  We're all in this together.  And hopefully that counts for something!

If you wish to share your own situation and circumstances...or to "vent"...feel free to contact me via this blog.  We ARE all in this together...and you DO have people in your corner.

Make Mine a "Club"... One Woman's Experience with the Sandwich Generation

Recently, Lauren e-mailed me to describe her experience with the Sandwich Generation.  She wrote...

"I have had several servings of "club" sandwiches over the past 25 years. I had my  2 and 3-year-old and a 92 and 90-year-old in my home at the same time (my grandmother and her brother).  We had them for 6 years.  Plus, my mother down the street at 70. 

Then I had my mother at 80 in my house and my husband's grandmother at 91.  Plus, my son boomeranged back with his 2-year-old son. We are empty nesters now... for a short time...anticipating the next set of elderly coming, probably next spring (his dad and step-mom). Even though I work full-time, I find myself depressed now that my youngest is gone." 

Lauren, I would like to suggest that you are not so much depressed because your youngest left home... you are EXHAUSTED!  Like many in this situation, you have become so accustomed to functioning in chaos and stress that you feel lost without it.  I encourage you to get some rest during this respite... to take some time for Lauren... and to give yourself a break.  I, for one, am in awe of your generosity and your fortitude!

I do somewhat understand where you are coming from... when our little ones have stayed with us for even a 24-hour time frame, there is that period after they leave that we sort of wander around and feel like, "Now what?"  All of a sudden, the house is quiet... there is no one to watch over intently and no feeling of trepidation if you even rush to the bathroom for five minutes.  It takes a while to adjust to the "emptiness" of the house again.  And I'll admit... it sometimes leaves me feeling momentarily sad.

I have also found myself experiencing some mild depression lately that I believe is due in part to the passing of my grandmother last March.  I truly miss her. It's not that I have a whole lot of extra time on my hands that I don't know how to fill... that was never an issue - and other people and projects filled in that void quite quickly and completely.  It's the little things... like thinking, "Oh, I must tell Mam-ma about that"... or "I'll have to ask Mam-ma what she thinks"... or "Mam-ma will love that!" 

For me, sewing has probably been the hardest adjustment.  I love to sew... and Mam-ma taught me how when I was little.  In the last two years, I took everything I made to the Assisted Living Facility to show my Mam-ma.  She would run her fingers across every garment or project.  She would examine the stitches and grin... and gesture for others to have a look at my handiwork.  Even though she couldn't talk, I knew she was pleased... and proud.  And sometimes she would shake her head, and I knew she was wishing that SHE could still sew... but she took great delight in my projects as her progeny.

Now, I don't have anyone to share my completed garments with... not in the way that I shared them with my grandmother.  And this has been hard.  Before my Mam-ma died, a friend who had lost her grandmother (who happened to be Mam-ma's back-door neighbor) told me how sad she was... how much she missed her grandmother... how hard it had been for her.  I thought, "That won't be me.  Mam-ma is SO ready to go to heaven... and I have made my peace with this.  I will miss her, but it won't be so terribly hard."  Well ya know what?  It IS terribly hard some days!  And that's just a fact!

So give yourself a little slack, Lauren.  Take some time for yourself and your husband in these next few months between "sandwiches"...and God bless you - for your dedication and your perseverance!  Every "sandwich" is different... but my goodness, it sounds like you've had a whole deli all by yourself!

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If you would like to share YOUR story, please contact me using the contact button on the top left-hand side of this blog.  We're all in this together... and you are not alone!  Sharing your story might be just the help that someone else needs, so please let me hear from you!

We're the Only "Normal" Ones Here...

Mam-ma Polly and my niece
Jasmine (Timothy's mom)
about 1992 - Mam-ma
would have been 80.

Last week, I went to visit Mam-ma Polly one evening just before 5:00 p.m. She was in the dining hall, dressed in a winter sweater - and pants.  In case the full impact of this statement has eluded you, let me remind you that I removed ALL of my grandmothers pants and pajama pants from her apartment (or so I thought) a few weeks ago.  I couldn't get the aides to stop putting pants on her (I felt dressingand undressing in pants would be cumbersome and painful) so I bought a half dozen house dresses for Mam-ma to wear and brought all the pants home with me.

Somehow, I guess I missed three pair of pants in the laundry.  An aide had reorganized the closet and matched these pants up with what blouses she could find (or in this case, a sweater) and dressed Mam-ma in an "outfit."  I explained that we are not wearing pants.  The aide apologized profusely.  The nurse rolled her eyes and said, "You have signs everywhere that say 'NO PANTS!'"  I assured them both that it was okay, and I gathered up the pants and all of Mam-ma's blouses and sweaters and brought them home.  I told my mom and the rest of the family, "Now all she has is her house dresses, some cardigan sweaters and jackets, and her winter coat.  If you go to visit and Mam-ma is dressed in her coat, you will know why!"  It shouldn't be this difficult!

Mam-ma with Timothy (Jasmine's baby)
Thanksgiving 2010

I did not go to the ALF on Tuesday or Wednesday - I was not feeling well.  However, my mom went on Wednesday, and she thought Mam-ma talked well and was doing okay.  On Thursday, I stopped in to see Mam-ma, and she was in bed. Some former neighbors from my childhood stopped by to say "Hello," and she seemed glad to see them.  That afternoon, my grandmother's three cousins in Oklahoma (who are more like nieces), called to say they wanted to drive over for a visit on Friday.  This is at least a four-hour drive for some of them - and one cousin and her husband were coming from Oklahoma City.  They promised to arrive after lunch and only stay about an hour.  They really wanted to do this, and I told them that I felt Mam-ma is as good as she is going to be - so come on over!

Friday, I went to the ALF about 1:30 p.m. to greet the cousins and make sure Mam-ma was doing okay.  They had just arrived.  I had some questions for the facility owner, so I left them visiting with Mam-ma in her apartment.  I ended up spending quite a while with the facility owner.  She was really pushing for Mam-ma to get physical therapy.  She explained to me how much she and the others love my grandmother - and how inspired and impressed they are by Mam-ma's "oomph" to get up and go.

I thanked the owner for being so caring toward Mam-ma... I truly do appreciate how they adore her and spoil her rotten.  But at the same time, I explained that Mam-ma's "oomph" is innate and belies her cognitive abilities.  She appears to be physically capable, to some degree... but mentally, she does not recognize her limitations.  I explained that rehab to get her walking again could possibly set her up for a bad event.  I believe she would not be able to comprehend her limitations... and she would try to do things she cannot and possibly fall and hurt herself badly.

Additionally, rehab would mean leaving Hospice.  This would be considered a "get-well" measure, and Medicare would not pay for rehab for someone on Hospice.  My grandmother is incontinent, she doesn't eat well, and most days, she is not mentally clear.  I feel she needs to remain under Hospice care.

Once we talked through all of this, the owner agreed that I was probably on the right track.  I agreed to keep an open mind.  Should my grandmother show improvement, I would have no problem removing her from Hospice in favor of rehab.  But we are a long way from this... and honestly, I don't think it will ever happen.

The cousins stayed about 2 hours.  I think they had trouble leaving and probably realized they might not get back to Arkansas to see Mam-ma again.  When I visited Mam-ma on Sunday, she did not even mention the cousins' visit.  She was in the dining hall, and I visited with her there while the aide fed her a roast beef lunch.  We returned to her room, and I showed Mam-ma some sewing projects I had brought.  She seemed to understand that I had made the pillows and dresses, and she fingered each one.

For several weeks, Mam-ma has mentioned one of these cousins named Patsy... to me, her aides, and one of the Hospice nurses. She has said more than once, "I want to call Patsy."  I assured her that I was keeping in touch with Patsy, and we all knew that Mam-ma could not talk on the phone well enough to have a conversation with Patsy... so I would do the communicating.  So when Patsy visited and Mam-ma did not even speak her name afterward, I was even more convinced that therapy is a bad idea.  My husband said, "Your grandmother has not said much in months.  Why would you think she would talk about the cousins coming?"  I agreed, but as I told him, I thought she would at least say, "Patsy," or "the girls came," or something about Oklahoma.  But it's like it never happened.  I do not think she remembers it at all... nor do I think she remembers her neighbors visiting on Thursday.

Yesterday, I visited late in the afternoon, and Mam-ma was asleep.  I rattled my car keys, and she roused.  Instantly, she reached for me and was visibly upset.  She said, "They've confined me to my bed, and I don't know why."  I asked if she had been up, and she said, "No!  They've confined me to this bed!"  The nurse overheard this and said, "She's been up a LOT today - she was up for breakfast and lunch, and they just put her back to bed after lunch."  I also knew that the Hospice aide had been there to bathe her during the morning hours - and the Hospice nurse had made a visit.  Mam-ma was mad.  She insisted "I'm confined to this bed, and they won't tell me why!"  "Confined" was the word she used over and again.

Finally, I rang for Mam-ma's aides and asked them to change her and get her up.  By this time, it was about 4:15 p.m.  I said, "We'll just let her sit in her wheelchair for a while and I will push her out to dinner."  I thought getting her up might prove to her she was not confined.  It didn't.  She sat in her wheelchair and said, "I don't understand why they have confined me to bed."  I told her... "Mam-ma!  You are sitting in your wheelchair.  You are NOT confined.  You can get up any time you want and sit in this chair or your recliner."  She looked at me like I was from Mars, and then she said, "Well, since I've been confined to my bed, I've not been able to get my kidneys to work."  She followed this with, "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

I realized Mam-ma was not mentally on the same planet with me, and I was wasting my breath.  After the aides came once again to change her, I wheeled her to the dining room.  We were very early - it was only about 4:30 p.m.  But drinks were already on the table, and I offered Mam-ma coffee, which she declined.  We sat in total silence.  Mam-ma stared blankly at the table.  A few more people entered the dining room.  In one corner sat a woman and her gentleman companion.  There were a few other ladies sitting at various tables throughout the dining room.

At the table nearest us, a lady sat sorting silverware.  She seemed to be in the throes of dementia as she unrolled the silverware at each place setting and combined them, then rolled them again in a napkin, saying, "It's just one thing after another."  At one point, she looked toward Mam-ma and me and said, "How can you kill someone if he's already dead?"  We did not respond, of course!

Then I heard the lady sitting with her gentleman friend say, "Look! These people are all crazy.  That one is rolling silverware.  That one is doing what she should... so is that one... and that one (gesturing toward me) is just sitting there staring at her mother!  We're the only normal ones here!  I think we should leave!"  It was all I could do to keep a straight face.  My worst "fears" have been confirmed... I am no longer "normal!"  At least it added a little levity to an otherwise depressing visit!

I found out later that when the Hospice nurse had visited yesterday morning, she found Mam-ma curled in a fetal position in her bed, very blank and sad.  Mam-ma cried, and the nurse asked her, "Are you hurting?"  Mam-ma said no, she wasn't hurting.  The nurse asked, "Then what's wrong, Polly?"  Mam-ma replied, "I'm tired."  The nurse was very upset... she loves my grandmother dearly, and as she told me today, "I think she is so tired of this life."  I agree... but we all know we cannot change this.  I'm touched that the nurses care so much.

Today, my mom visited and found Mam-ma a little better.  She was able to visit some - even asked a few questions, like when my niece's next baby is due.  But Mom didn't think she was "great" by any stretch.  And...at one point, she said Mam-ma told her, "I prayed and prayed and prayed that I would never be this way."  We think she meant being incontinent and dependent on others to change her and keep her clean and dry.

On a happier note, we talked to Timothy this week, and he sounded great.  He told us all about swimming and Toy Story 3, and his birthday cake.  He also told each of us that "I love you," and that made our day!  And... I was told by my cousin Natalie that her three-year-old, Owen, wants to wear the "Toy Story" shorts I made him every day - she can't keep them laundered enough for him!  Owen and his 8-year-old sister, Olivia, visited us last Tuesday, and I gave him the shorts.  I also gave Olivia a denim skirt I had made for her.  Sewing for them is great therapy and gives me a reason to smile.

So every day is still different... and Mam-ma's decline continues. I have asked my family and friends to pray for peace for my grandmother. I am trusting God's will and His timing... and I know if Mam-ma is still here, there is a reason. But she is truly miserable... I am convinced of this... and it's heartbreaking. I try to do what I can for her when I visit... and not to think about it too much when I leave. I feel like the best thing I can do for her and everyone else at this point is to try to preserve my own sanity, and - despite the assessment of the other ALF resident - maintain as much "normalcy" as possible!  Wish me luck!

Waiting for "The Next Big Thing"

I don't have a whole lot to report this week, except to say that my grandmother seems to be in a "holding pattern."  She was doing fairly well when I visited her on Sunday - having lunch at her regular table with her friend, Evelyn.  She could not communicate, and she ate like a bird, but that is nothing new on either front these days.

Monday, my mom visited and found Mam-ma sitting in the dining hall, listening to gospel music by a couple from our community who come regularly to sing for the residents.  Mom said Mam-ma was doing well... singing the hymns along with the others, and apparently pain-free.  She was dressed in one of her new house dresses - a sleeveless number the aide had put on OVER her cardigan sweater!  Mom questioned the aides about how long Mam-ma had been up, and several rushed to her side right away to assure her that they were not letting my grandmother get overly tired... that she wanted to be up and out.

One aide in particular - one of my favorites - told Mom that Mam-ma had insisted on getting up and out one day the week before, and this aide had taken her to the garden to survey the peppers, squash and tomatoes growing there.  She said the planned to take her again that day, but Mom told her she thought Mam-ma had had enough activity.  She had been to breakfast, lunch, and now the singing.

I really don't know if Mam-ma went to the garden or not, but the next morning when I arrived, she had done a total 180-degree turn.  She was curled up in a fetal position in bed, moaning... and both she and her aides told me she had serious diarrhea and had required a shower just to get her cleaned up well.  The aides appeared in Mam-ma's room to tell me about Mam-ma's morning. One of them confessed that he did not know how the sleeveless dress worked - over or under the sweater. I told him under, and he apologized, despite my insistence it was okay. He began to tell me how he worked hard to smooth Mam-ma's frizzy bed-hair before taking her out of the room... and he asked if I would bring some mousse, so that he could do a better job.

I was touched by his care and concern... and later, the nurse told me that this particular aide goes to great lengths to make sure Mam-ma is presentable each day before taking her to meals.The Hospice social worker had requested a visit with me, so when she arrived, we moved outside on the porch to visit.  It was an unseasonably nice summer morning, so we sat in rocking chairs and talked about my grandmother and her care.

The social worker talked to me about moving Mam-ma to a skilled care nursing facility across the street from the ALF.  I quickly said "No!"  This has been the suggestion of several ... and I did back-pedal enough to allow the social worker to outline her reasons for this suggestion. At the forefront was, "I can tell from your conversation - and from what the nurses have told me - that you are frustrated... that you feel some of the ALF staff are not listening to you and your wishes.  You deserve to be heard."  I listened to all she had to say, and then I told her that I felt that a move at this point would be disruptive and upsetting to Mam-ma.

My mom and I had talked on Monday after her visit to the ALF.  Mom said... and I agree... "Your Mam-ma is driving them crazy.  She will not stay in bed or in her room, and they don't know what else to do except get her up and take her out for a while."  My sister confirmed that - at least on weekend nights when she is working - Mam-ma "sits" on her buzzer continually.  The "favorite" aide told Mom that whenever anyone passes Mam-ma's room, she hollers for them.  I have experienced this myself... if Mam-ma senses movement past her open door, she yells, "Hey!" until someone comes to see what she wants.  Often, she can't tell them when they arrive.  I know... it's frustrating for everyone!

So I told the Hospice social worker that I would reserve the option to change my mind, but for now, I am just riding this pony!  I fully expect that there will be a "Next Big Thing"... Mam-ma will try to get out of bed - or stand and fall... she will develop another skin tear, pressure wound, or infection like the UTI... or her overall decline will catch up with her as she eats less and less and continues to have diarrhea almost daily.  When the "Next Big Thing" happens, we will deal with it.  I know the administrator at the skilled care facility, and if it should become apparent that Mam-ma needs to move, I will

I also told the Hospice social worker that *I* have to own the frustration... that a lot of it is on me.  I have to learn to let some of this go and move forward.  These staff members dearly love my grandmother.  They are doing what they feel is best for her, based on their daily relationship with her, my input, and my grandmother's requests and demands.  I have to trust God to take care of these situations... and to give me the strength and capacity to handle whatever happens next.  After all, something will happen eventually.  My grandmother will not live forever, and something has to facilitate her demise at some point.  And the entire family - and Mam-ma - are all okay with this!

So we agreed to let this go for the moment... to try to relax and take deep breaths... and wait for "The Next Big Thing."  I don't know if Mam-ma overdid it on Monday and the result was her diarrhea and inability to get out of bed the next day - or if it was just "one of those days."  But on Wednesday and every subsequent day this week, she was up, dressed, going to meals, and she appeared to be pain-free.  Maybe the antibiotics and the new time-released medicine are working.  Maybe she just had a string of good days.  Maybe she will actually rally for a few weeks/months - and even try to walk again.  I really cannot say, and it doesn't matter.  We are taking this one day at a time... until the "Next Big Thing."

As part of my attempt to chill out and not over-manage things, I stayed home a couple of days this week and did not visit the ALF.  I sewed... made darling dresses and shorts for some little friends... I worked out, wrote, and read.  My husband and I actually went out of town to attend the wedding of our dear friends' daughter.  And the sky did not fall!  I took the outfits I had made to show Mam-ma one day - and she smiled a GREAT BIG smile and gave me several "I tell you whats!"  A week earlier I had taken sewing, and she looked at it blankly and didn't respond.  So I count this as a good week...and I will take it!

As I have said before, I'm learning to find God's goodness, grace and mercy in the little ordinary things of the day... like time to work out, a few hours to sew or write... and time spent with my husband.  In truth, these are not little ordinary things at all, but rather, wonderful gifts we take for granted.  I know one thing is for certain... in all of this "Sandwich journey," I have received far bigger lessons than anyone... and I'm still learning!

Do You Know...My Favorite Dinosaur is Cool? Do You Know Why This Matters?

Last night, we talked to Timothy and his mother for the first time in nearly two long months.  They had spent the day at a nearby lake and botanical gardens/park, and Timothy had LOTS to tell us.  He also had a lot to tell us about his birthday presents - and his dinosaurs... and the repetitive question was a dramatic, "Do you know... that my favorite dinousaur is cool?  I will show it to you!"  Of course, we could not see it on the telephone, but that didn't seem to matter.  And this was all important because????  The 30-minute conversation with our beloved three-year-old was a welcome respite from the focus on my grandmother and her deteriorating condition.

Wednesday and Thursday were remarkably "good" days for Mam-ma Polly.  She was clearer and put more sentences together than she has in months.  She told me about visitors and asked about a mutual friend who is suffering with Bells Palsy.  She said of this person, "I wish I was able to send her a note."   She is still thinking about others - even now.

However, my mom visited on Friday, and nothing was the same.  Mam-ma was virtually unresponsive.  Mom had to keep waking her to talk with her... and even then, she wasn't sure things registered.  And Mam-ma has a pressure wound on her right heel - the leg that is broken.  It's about the size of a quarter, and the Hospice nurse put padded "booties" on her feet to keep them from touching the sheets.  We are told by the nurses that this is the beginning of other problems... like more skin breakdown.  And even worse, Mam-ma is in pain.

We got the doctor to increase her pain medication from 2 times per day as needed to four times per day, as needed.  However, before the six hours is up she is begging and groaning in pain.  When I visited yesterday morning, I found her in a fetal position, clenching the bed rail with both hands, frowning deeply and groaning.  She was in a lot of pain.  We have not been able to reach a doctor this weekend, which I am not sure I understand.  But there are times when the Hydrocodone kicks in that Mam-ma is happy and laughing... it's just that last hour or so before the next pain pill - and then the hour afterward until it takes effect.  When you add them all up, that is a lot of time to be in pain.  Hopefully I can get to the bottom of it tomorrow and get either her dosage strength increased - or the frequency of administering the current amount.  I do not want my grandmother to be in pain at this point.

I know every day is different... and the challenges and frustrations may only increase as we go along.  For all who questioned at the beginning of this week whether Hospice was the right choice, I say, "Go visit her now."  We made the right choice.

At the same time, I am trying to pace myself... and if you are in the same boat - or a similar dinghy - I suggest you do the same.  Last Saturday, my best friend and I attended a party to celebrate the marriage of a mutual friend we have known since childhood.  We laughed, danced, and reminisced... and for a few hours, I didn't think about hospitals, pain, Hospice, or anything sad.  It felt great!  Yesterday, I fired up my sewing machine and made pillows for our front and back porches.  Sewing is my therapy... and I get lost in the beautiful fabrics and calculating yardage and creating something pretty... and I feel happy and peaceful.

In all of these challenges, we have to find balance.  So talking to Timothy last night was the icing on the cake.  Thinking about the carefree world of a three-year-old and his soon-to-be-one-year-old sister made us smile and laugh... something we haven't done often enough lately.  Tonight, if everything holds together, my husband and I plan to veg out on the couch and watch movies... one drama... and one comedy.

This seemingly sudden 180-degree turn with my grandmother should come as no surprise.  I know things can change quickly from here on out... but at the same time, it was a good reminder NOT to be surprised - or to take a "good" day/hour for granted.  I'm still keeping my house in some semblance of order and trying to stay ahead of meals and laundry... and basically keeping my "house" in order (literally and figuratively).  Nothing is certain... of that I am sure.  But I am taking things one day at a time, and relishing in the fact that dinosaurs really are cool... and I know a little boy who can tell me why!

Micro-management or Loving Care... How Do You Tell the Difference?

I am sorry it has been so long since my last post. To say that this has been a hectic and stressful week would be an understatement. The hospitalist agreed to keep my grandmother over the weekend so that she could be re-admitted to her apartment at the ALF on Monday and placed in Hospice Care. I met Monday morning with the Hospice director, the ALF administrator and R.N., and the Hospice R.N./Caseworker. We reviewed the care plan for Mam-ma and agreed that she would do only as much as she fel like doing... and that our goal was to keep her happy and comfortable for the rest of her life.

To say the weekend in the hospital was uneventful would be a lie. For starters, I arrived Saturday morning around 9:00, and the aides said, "She didn't eat much breakfast." I immediately knew why as soon as I saw Mam-ma ... she wasn't wearing her dentures! I told the girls... "She doesn't have in her teeth!" They sheepishly disappeared, and the ward clerk scrambled to find something in the nutrition room that we thought Mam-ma would eat. Then she realized the food cart was right beside the nurses' desk, and Mam-ma's virtually untouched tray was still there. She retrieved it and warmed the scrambled eggs and biscuit in the microwave. I fed Mam-ma, and she ate all of her eggs and half a biscuit with jelly - once we put in her teeth, of course!

I think one of the hardest things for me was that Mam-ma did not know me for several days.  She seemed to recognize me, but when I would ask, "What's my name?" she would shake her head and say, blankly, "I don't know."  Same thing for her own name.  Friday evening, she knew Greg by name... and then my cousin Amanda.  But it was late Sunday evening when I asked again, and she knew my name... and she was able to give her own name on Monday.

Saturday morning, the therapist came to do some exercises, but when she and the nurse lifted Mam-ma from the bed, Mam-ma virtually collapsed in dead weight, and they just sat her in a chair. The therapist, who is a friend whose grandmother is Mam-ma's contemporary, mouthed from behind Mam-ma... "You're doing the right thing" (meaning Hospice). That made me feel more confident in my decision.

Sunday was horrible. Mam-ma required several "brief" changes, and the nurses were always so kind.  But sometimes it was an hour after we rang for help... and that is just too long - even if you are understaffed.  So I had to make a few trips to the desk to remind someone I needed help!

By the time Sunday ended, my grandmother had suffered through several hours of severe gas pains that left her screaming in discomfort. She was unable to eat her dinner, and I discovered that while we were at lunch, Amanda and her dad had come, and Mam-ma had sent them home with some harsh words... she had a messy diaper and was embarrassed, and she told them in some pretty colorful language to go home. So they did. Another cousin came before dinner, and she helped me with Mam-ma for a while... managed to feed her some applesauce... and Mam-ma finally settled down and seemed to stop hurting around 7:30 p.m. I hugged her and promised, "I'll take you home tomorrow." She frowned and said, "Debbie, I'm worried about you.  You're doing too much."  I explained that I was only doing what she needed, and I would be okay.  Later, as I kissed her goodbye, she cried and said, "Oh, Sugar... you've done so much... you are just so precious." I left in tears.

I came home and tearfully told all of this to my husband... who had been there with me for part of the afternoon drama... and he said, "You are overly tired. It will be okay." I was... and it is... but that was a rough day.

Monday, I arrived at the hospital, and the aide met me and said, "She hardly ate anything this morning." I took one look and said, "I can tell you why - she isn't wearing her teeth again!' This was another aide, and she said, "But it was pancakes and scrambled eggs!" I replied, "I don't care... she's not gonna eat without her teeth!" So the nurses ordered another tray and apologized profusely. This is "Nursing 101!" The charge nurse said, "If you were staying another night, I'd make a sign that said 'Be sure to check for her teeth before feeding!'" After meeting Monday morning at the ALF with Hospice and ALF staff, we got Mam-ma settled back in her apartment by late afternoon. No less than six aides, a nurse, and an administrator swarmed the hospital van to greet her when she arrived. That was such a great sight... I knew we were truly home. I spent more than an hour with the Hospice nurse and social worker, filling out paper work and getting things in order. It was another long day.

Mam-ma seemed to do well on Tuesday... a Hospice aide came and bathed her. She has a hospital bed, a wheelchair, bedside toilet, and oxygen if needed. The four days per week that the ALF staff doesn't give her a bath are covered by Hospice aides who come and bathe. Mam-ma was concerned about me "doing too much," so I told her I would stay home on Wednesday and not visit. Honestly, my house was so dirty and messy, and I could not rest until I knew it was in some semblance of order. It never felt so good to clean a bathroom or dust and vacuum! I made potato salad and spaghetti sauce to freeze for quick meals and just basically caught up on things that had been neglected for nearly two weeks.

Thursday, we had a Mother's Day luncheon at the ALF. I had told the administrator that my sister and I would attend - and if Mam-ma could not attend, we would sit with some mother who had no one there to sit with her. When we arrived, Mam-ma had been bathed, and she had on pajamas - even the pants! Her favorite Hospice aide was there, so I didn't question the pajamas... although she had worn hospital gowns up to that point. We asked if she felt like going to the luncheon, thinking she would say no... but she said yes, and she wanted to wear her nicest suit! So the aides dressed her, and off we went.

Looking back, this was a huge mistake. Mam-ma smiled and looked beautiful... and many came to the table to greet her. But she barely ate, and she didn't have a clue about where she was or what was happening. Back in her room, she immediately fell asleep in bed... clothes and all. A short time later, an aide got her up to curl her hair, since she didn't feel like going to the beauty shop for her regular appointment.  This was all just too much for her.

During lunch, the activities director stopped by our table and told us that Mam-ma had come out to the dining room and played BINGO the day before. This was news to me, and I was quite shocked. I knew the nurse had told me she wheeled Mam-ma to the dining room a couple of times... but she had also told me that Mam-ma did not get up for any meals on Wednesday. I'm not sure exactly what she did. But the bottom line was that I realized that the staff had put Mam-ma right back into her old routine and was pushing her to get back to her "old self." I didn't know what to do, but I figured she was pretty close to "hitting the wall."

I was right. Friday morning, the Hospice nurse called me and said, "I've just seen Polly, and she is totally out of it. She cannot stay awake... she is lethargic... I don't know what happened!" I did! I explained how much that Polly had done last week, and the nurse told me that this had to stop. I agreed... but how? She told me that I needed to contact the administrator and discuss this with her... and I did... and we agreed that Mam-ma takes meals in her room, stays in her hospital gown, and only gets up for a little while each day and sits in her recliner - at least for now. She is still in a lot of pain, and only 14 days out from a major surgery at this point. Plus, she is less than 6 months from being 100 years old!!! Because Mam-ma looks so much younger - and generally acts it... and because the staff loves her so and wants her well... they were really working to rehab her back into shape!

So I'm getting some dirty looks and have had to go back and reiterate to a few that we are NOT pushing... that "less is more" in this case. But we seem to be getting there, and I do think this is the best thing for my grandmother. I am not willing her to die... nor giving up on her. I am managing her care. There have been times when I have called about something or gotten involved in a detail here or there, and my husband has suggested that perhaps I am micro-managing her care and causing myself undue stress. The Hospice nurse assures me that I am not... that I am simply loving my grandmother and making sure she is taken care of. It's hard to know how to balance this... and what can slide and what is important. I'm in some uncharted territory here (at least for me), and I am doing the best I can.  When I visited today, a new shift of aides was on board, and Mam-ma had been to lunch and was dressed in pajamas again.  So I had to "educate" them on the plan... apparently the word about her care plan did not get to them.

One aide seemed to question my comments... I told her and another aide that the doctors feel that even with therapy, Mam-ma most likely will not walk again, and this aide said, "Oh, I disagree!  They don't know Ms. Polly!"  Maybe not... but I do, and she is almost 100 and 14 days out from a major surgery.  For now, at least, bed rest, meals in her room, and no wheelchair rides is the way to go.  I did consent to letting Mam-ma wear her pajama tops instead of a hospital gown.  She says the gowns "choke me."  So she can wear the tops and a robe when sitting up in her chair... but wrestling on a pair of pajama pants is preposterous for someone in her condition!

I am so thankful for Hospice. I told someone that Hospice is as much for me at this point as it is for Mam-ma. I needed their support and guidance. I needed to know that someone who knew more than I will manage her care and help me with all of the decisions. And I needed someone I could call (besides a family member or friend) who was an expert... and who could be my sounding board.

At this point, we are day-to-day... or is it minute-to-minute?! Things change constantly with my grandmother, and I'm not anticipating anything at this point - good or bad. I'm trying to let things happen, and be prepared for whatever comes next.

Meanwhile, our little Timothy celebrated his 3rd birthday Sunday. We sent lots of wrapped gifts, and he had a big day with his family. We're hoping to hear from him firsthand soon about all of the festivities and get his reaction. I wish we could have been with him for this celebration... but at the same time, I'm so glad he is with his mother right now and not factored into this mix! God knew I couldn't handle both... and He was right!

A Good Look at Caregiving in the Sandwich Generation... Please Read!

A friend of mine posted this link on Facebook today... it speaks volumes to the circumstances for those in the Sandwich Generation. The stresses, challenges, and emotions described in this post as they relate to fostering/adopting children are strikingly similar for caring for an elderly person. I highly recommend you read this post and share a link to it with everyone on your list.

MomLifeToday.com - How to Help an Adoptive Family

Chocolate, Heaters, and Two-year-olds

Everything is going well with my grandmother.  She made a trip to Wal-Mart with the Southridge activities director and bought herself some sunglasses and a hat for her walks outside around the facility.  The staff told me she had spent time yesterday morning in the garden... although she didn't mention it to me at all!  I'm learning to function more in her "world" when I am there and leave it at that... so far, so good!

Yesterday, I visited Mam-ma, filled her bird feeder, and took back some clothing I had laundered and ironed for her.  When I arrived, she was not in her room, but residents nearby told me she was in the "library" area near the front entrance.  As I made my way there, I heard the unmistakable talk and laugh of Timothy.  My sister had brought him over for a visit. I found the three of them there... my sister and Mam-ma sitting in chairs, with Timothy perched atop Mam-ma's walker (it has a little seat).  He was looking at a little book made out of fabric with Mam-ma.  We visited for a minute or two, and then Mam-ma insisted we return to her room.

I had noticed when I was outside filling the bird feeder that Mam-ma's heater was running.  The temperature had risen to the upper 70s, and it felt quite nice outside.  Inside Mam-ma's room was another matter altogether.  It was very hot, of course... and she didn't seem to notice, sitting comfortably in her chair wearing a blouse and a jacket made of sweatshirt material!

Timothy noticed a bowl of peppermints on the coffee table.  Mam-ma told him he couldn't have one, but she would find something for him.  She got a fun-sized Three Musketeers bar out of her drawer and unwrapped it for him.  He started eating... the chocolate started melting.  As he navigated the small room fingering Mam-ma's knick-knacks, she admonished, "Don't let him get that candy on the quilt!"  Yeah, right!  I maneuvered him away from the bed, and I opened drawers until I found a roll of paper towels - quickly darting to the bathroom to moisten one.  I returned in time to wipe Timmy's hand and the two drawers he had just smeared with chocolate!

Back to the bathroom with Towel #2... and when I returned, Timmy had switched hands, and now the OTHER hand was covered in chocolate.  My sister finally retrieved the rest of the candy bar and helped Timmy finish it, so we could clean up and be done with that.  I learned later that Timmy gets candy every time he visits.  I said to my sister, "Well, DUH... he knows to ask for those peppermints so he will get chocolate!"  She said she supposed so.  I'm quite sure of it... he's smart enough to figure out that one!

Chocolate and heat and all things considered, it was a good visit.  We sang and "performed" for Mam-ma... and she laughed and clapped at Timmy's antics.  He grew restless, and Mam-ma told me to "Put him on that walker and push him up and down the halls."  I did, while she and my sister visited.  And I told my husband later... the residents LOVED it.  They were gathering in the hallways in anticipation of dinner in the dining hall, and each time we passed them, they oohed and ahhed over Timothy - "Bring him here!  He's so precious!  Come here and let me have a look at him!" 

We forget that older people seldom see a baby or a small child... and they miss them!  And Timmy was fine with all of the attention.  He gave a man named Charley a "high five" - he smiled and jibbered for a couple of ladies I know, and he waved at everyone.

These visits are good for all concerned - they thrill my grandmother... AND her fellow residents. They give us a buffer - something to focus on other than my grandmother's complaints.  And they teach Timmy to love and respect the elderly.  In all, I would say that while the visits had elements of a rodeo, it was still time well spent.

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