Aging

It's spring break, and unlike most of the town, I am staying all break. This is because the two people I live with either don't get a break at all or have their high school spring break in two weeks (which is really annoying--why would a school district have different spring breaks than the college when we live in a town with one college, one school district, one Safeway, and not much else?). So I have spent the first two days of my break being the happy homemaker, which is extremely easy when you don't have any kids because what you clean, stays clean. And my house really needed me to be home. So far, I've scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom floors, done most of the laundry, changed the sheets on our bed, vacuumed the entire upstairs, took all the weird recycling to the recycling center, cleaned the bathtub, dusted the bedroom, and read the first book and a half of the Princess Dairies series (which is hilarious).

This month is also the month that my church takes over our local Meals on Wheels. I've never done this before, but I signed up for today and Thursday since I don't have to be at work. I read a book when I was a kid where this boy takes meals to a woman with a cat (my brother would remember the name), so I have always wanted to do it. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I figured for some reason that most of the people would be senior citizens with low income. But now I know that is not the case. The first woman I took a meal to (I had to take meals to eight people, and it took about an hour and a half) was probably only in her late 40s, but she was on oxygen and looked really tired, so I suppose it was hard for her to leave the house. She had a dog, though, who was quite energetic. We didn't talk much, but I noticed that her house was immaculate and very nice. A few other people also lived in very nice houses, so I suppose they just have a hard time getting out on their own. I think this is a problem in our little town because so many people move away and leave their aging parents behind.

Some people did live on more of a budget. I look at all the crummy apartments around here, and I always think "college students," but now I realize that is not true. And it was a lot easier to see the rundown apartments as belonging to college students, as opposed to people my grandparents' age. One man lived in a building eerily reminiscent like my father-in-law's before he died. The hallways were gloomy and smelled of smoke, but the man behind the door was very cheerful. Another lady lived in a "college" apartment, and had pictures of George Bush all over the back of her couch. When I came in she told me that she got three things in the mail today, all asking her for money. The signed pictures of the Bush's all said "Thanks for your support," so I hope she doesn't spend all of her money on things in the mail. You could tell the landlords hadn't renovated in a while, but she said she really liked it. Another man I think had Alzheimer's because he didn't really know what was going on. He lived in a nice house just up the street from where we used to live--we walked by it all the time. I remember thinking that it was one of the few in the area that didn't really have a lot of flowers or anything around it, but I realize now that he probably can't take care of it like he used to.

I've been thinking about this for a while since my grandmother just moved from her apartment to an "old folks home," as she puts it. I haven't talked with her since she moved in, but she wasn't looking forward to it. She'd had the same phone number for 49 years, and now she has to memorize a new one. She doesn't like to eat dinner until 8pm, but the dining hall closes at 6pm. She says only old people eat that early. She has to go downstairs to do her laundry, and they won't let her come to the dining room in her pajamas. She likes open rooms, and now she is in this little place with only one bedroom. They were having a flu outbreak when she moved in, so all the common rooms were closed, the dining room was closed, and they canceled all the day trips so she was only able to sit in her room and watch tv. Now in the scope of all the world's problems, these are easy to adjust to, but it occurs to me that when you're 88 years old you have the right to keep your routine and not feel like no one wants you. And Cecil is in a pretty nice place. My grandparents are moving to the same place soon, and my aunt just flew out to claim all the stuff she wants. My uncle--her brother--was not happy, and I don't think Grandma was either.

It occurs to me that society doesn't really take care of the aging very well, especially those without money.

I think I'll go call my grandmother.