On Monday, we drove mom to her new community. I had help moving her things and before she arrived, her room was filled with her favorite paintings and family photographs. The staff at the new community immediately welcomed her and got her involved in activities.
We didn’t make this decision lightly.
My parents and my grandparents both lived in the community mom just moved from. They have lifelong friends who live there. However, my mom doesn’t remember or recognize them anymore. I know many people in the community and the change is a little scary for me too.
When my dad died, I received books on managing grief from some volunteers. In December, a group of volunteers went to Arlington National Cemetary and laid a wreath at my dad’s headstone and sent pictures and a note to my mom. My godfather would often deliver my mom’s mail and many of the residents knew her from the years of bridge groups that she ran. Several adult children of other residents would stop by and visit my mom. I will miss these things.
We were asked to let the community help mom make the transition and told that we shouldn’t plan on visiting the first week. Two of the women that supported my mom as personal daily assistants (pda’s) in her old community are on site and helping her make the transition. I feel like I did when my children went to camp. I hope my mom’s doing well and adjusting and that she is finding enjoyment in the new community. Wished.