Inspiring Women (and now Men) in my neighborhood
I decided it was time to talk about other people and things beside Madrigal, although connected. So how about these two amazing women who are my neighbors. I met Jean, first, she is the women on the left. She is 88 years young and always on the move. I met her not too long after her husband died and we became friends. The women to the right, Vangie, 90 years , is a quilt artist, and a very good. She was the one that first told me that I was a “Folk artist”. I didn’t even understand that until I started to read about Folk Art and visited her home with her beautiful quilts and her collections of Folk Art. Love these women. Great example of Aging Well for me. Jean does water aerobics every day, involved in her church and always working on her big home across the street from me. Vangie seems to be more of a home body and enjoys working in her beautiful garden and on her quilts. She has a beautiful artistic fork art home that is really something to see. Both women do inspire me.
My 97 year old father moved in with me the beginning of July 2014. Up to this point, he was living in his home on the banks of the Oswego River in a small town of less than 14,000 people. He grew up in this town, and raised his family there, and he never wanted to leave. But the time finally came when he needed help, and since he didn’t want anyone in his house, he decided he wanted to come live at Madrigal which I of course said yes. I had been trying to get him to come here now for a long time. I knew when he finally called that he knew he needed help, although he wouldn’t admit it, but when he got here he wanted me to do a lot for him, to include being his total entertainment committee. He also didn’t like it when I went out and left him alone, and he never seemed to want to eat what ever I made him, even when I asked him ahead of time what he wanted. He also began to expect more than one choice of what to eat, plus be began to want to go out to eat almost every other day. It was getting to be too much trying to please him and I told him we needed to find a way to make it work for both of us.
After discussing it all with my siblings I decided to get him a driver/companion so that he had more freedom, but he didn’t like that either. In fact one day he just called a taxi without telling me and took off. I had no idea where he was. Did he decide he wanted to go back to home ( which he told my brother and I over and over again). “I never wanted to come to Madrigal.” So I called the local police who found him in the village not far from my place. When the officer asked him why he left he said I wasn’t feeding him. I guess he was embarrassed and needed to say something. He just doesn’t understand why he just can’t come and go like he use too, to include having over $200 cash on him and to call a taxi and go where ever he wanted to. So after much debate and phone calls and trips to Madrigal by my siblings. Dad moved to his own studio apartment, at a senior facility with acreage of trees, flowers and grass.
They clean his place every two weeks, he goes into the dinning room to eat ( where he can makes choices on what he would like to eat) , and having other people around his age. And he began to thrive there. He isn’t alone anymore, having to do everything for himself, with no one close by. It has worked out for the best so far. And it is nice to have him so close. However, that lasted around 4 months and then Dad decided the facility was costing too much money and that he couldn’t afford it ( which is somewhat true) and he wanted to move to the VA where “his buddies were”. So Dec. 10 I moved Dad into the Chula Vista VA. Another new transition for him. It is a new journey for not only Dad but for me too. For now he will be around 20 minutes away without traffic. Dad is thriving at the VA and I am so happy for him and for all of us. He is safe, feels safe, and has people around him for help if he needs it. And I can breath again. You go Dad.
2017- My father who now was 100 died in his sleep just the way we hoped he would, and just one week earlier he was taking his daily walk and I took a picutre of him waving to his children. Who would have know at the time that was would be his last good-by. I think of you always dear Daddy and all the fond memories that you left behind.