Fritz and I started our day with a walk.
In the South Texas heat.
And humidity.
If it were not for the Corpus Christi Wind it would have been unbearable.
Today, however, is not about Fritz and me, or exercise, but about my parents. They are 87 and 85 and my sister, Beverly, informed me, upon picking me up at the Continental Airlines counter yesterday that it was “time.” She had already had “the conversation” with my mother.
Our parents were going to have to move to an assisted living community.
Our father was already on board and our mother followed his lead and Bev’s proposal by being unexpectedly agreeable.
So, today, we are in the car going from facility to facility, talking to managers who are called “marketing directors” and finding out about care, cleaning, meals and, not the least, cost.
It’s a little sad, but at least our parents are not resisting and are looking forward to a safer, easier environment than the home they’ve lived in since it was built in 1953.
The house my sister and I both grew up in.
One crucial factor that has to be considered at every facility we consider: Fritz’s well-being has to be taken into consideration.
See you Monday, Dr. Randolph.
