One year ago...

I was in the town where i grew up.

Mom and Dad had moved to a retirement center.  They are planners and had been sort of planning this move for maybe 20 years.  Like all of us, they can be realistic and pragmatic when the need arises:  because a big house isn't necessary when the kids aren't there anymore, nor is it necessary when it becomes tiresome to keep it up.

They moved into their nice apartment in October, and were able to close on the house before the calendar year was up.

By January we knew that their living arrangements weren't working already.

Dad had begun to forget things, and they knew that he has "Alzheimer's."  My take on "Alzheimer's" is that it is progressed old-age forgetfulness, a bucket-label, useful for insurance and care purposes.  Please understand:  There *is* a problem there. But the progression varies, the symptoms vary, and from everything i've read i find that there are a myriad of causes and triggers, and environmental contributions.  The medical classification is "Alzheimer's," and it works.

They moved to the retirement community at this time because we were all worried that Dad would over-exert, or get lost, or fall down, or something, and no one would know.  In a retirement community there would be more eyes and someone on call at all times.

When they moved he either got worse, or it became more obvious that he had gotten worse at the old house and was able to hide it through habit and familiar patterns and objects (we might never know which it is in any Alzheimer's person).  This meant that Mom now had a person with many child-tendencies on her hands, who is also her spouse, and her own health to take care of, and...

February, one year ago, I went to my home town to help Mom and my sister and my Dad get him settled into his own apartment.  In this new place for him there would be people to watch him, help him, and he wouldn't get lost because he couldn't get out on his own.  And Mom (we hoped) wouldn't have to worry as much.  Assisted Living is what it is commonly called.

This February, he is in the "Care Center" because there are too many things he can no longer do for himself.  The need for the move was obvious, less traumatic on all of us, especially Dad.  He now asks Mom where his wife is (by name ! :-).  This kind woman with mostly grey hair can't be his wife, he knows, because he has a picture of himself and his wife on their wedding day.

A year is not so long:

- My daughter was in 2nd grade, and is now in 3rd.  She was becoming proficient at adding two 2-digit numbers.  Now she is handling 4 digit numbers, subtraction and adding, and occasionally dabbles in multiplication and fractions
- She was able to read 600 minutes in a couple of months, and now regularly reads ~1200 minutes/month
- We added a room to our house, and put up solar-water-heating panels
- I have a sister in a new house, and a sister-in-law in a new house
- Two nieces are in their senior years
- One niece started first grade
- Our 5' trees are now close to 6'
- Mom has mostly adjusted, i think, to living single and visiting Dad
- Dad no longer makes complete sentences, and needs someone else to shave him and brush his teeth.

I don't really have a point.  Things change.  We grow, we build, we age.  I don't even know that it's important to reflect on the last year.  I suppose that February, for now, will be my yearly signpost.