GOOD-BYE TO NURSING HOME LIFE (Nursing Home Life, part 15)

“To everything there is a season” Ecclesiastes 3:1 A most extraordinary chapter in my life has come to an end. I have said good-bye to nursing home life. I am well. I am grateful. I am happy. I am wondering. I am grateful: that my city—edmonton—has a place, Laurier House where couples can make a home together when one member requires services provided in the public system for long-term care; that so many relatives and friends integrated time with us into their regular routines, gifting us withcomfort and laughter, the continuation of our past life into the present; That the staff of Laurier House were there to help as best they could, while their call system constantly summoned them to hurry out in service of others; That we had the financial resources to supplement the care at Laurier House by paying for extra care; That we were able to engage private care givers who would join me in caring for David as a treasured person—rare and precious; That we had the funds to purchase new wheelchairs as David’s needs changed and a computer that could speak for him when his own voice could not; That David was able to be with us to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary, and Christmas with all five of our grandchildren, and Boxing Day with his sister and her family; That David was able to die at our home, in his own bed, attended by our son and the Laurier House staff; That we could keep him with us after death through the afternoon and evening, still warm and more relaxed than he had been in many years, while friends and family gathered in the spirit of a party around him; That more than 400 people attended his memorial and so many others sent messages saying they would like to have been there; That David and I were blessed with a shared enduring love strong enough to sustain us together from our late teens to official senior citizen status; That I could move out of Laurier House and back into the condo we had purchased in 2015, so that it would be there for me when the end came for David. I am happy to be cooking my own food, to be eating vegetables sautéed to crisp perfection, to be showering without wondering if a nurse will open the bathroom door. And inasmuch as I am happy to have moved out of Laurier House, I am even happier to be able to say that I stayed there until the end. I am wondering if I am done with nursing home life. Perhaps I will someday need such a place for my own care. And I am wondering how we could find it in ourselves to look seriously at nursing home life with an eye focused well above the minimum standards, so that they could be places where we ourselves would want to live. A home is more than a physical facility. It is a place where a person can feel precious. Feeling precious, when you are unable to care for yourself, happens when others have the time to care for you. Most of us won’t have a wife to move in with us, and many won’t have the money to hire extra help. Those of us who pay the bills through our taxes will need to set the standards now to provide the time, or risk being cared for later in a hurry.