I enjoyed living the last eight months of Allen’s life with him on a campus like you described warm hearth to be. It was very pleasant, and once I am at all in need of assistance I will be glad to return to such a place. In California, they are outrageously expensive so I may move to middle Tennessee where my goddaughter lives, and her mom.
I do recoil somewhat from the price, but when you think about those various services obtained while living-in-place at home, they are not quite as wild as they first seem. Even so, these facilities are not the answer for the surge of wage-earner retirees who could barely make monthly payments, much less squirrel away a million dollars.
Congrats, happy birthday, David!
Lovely poem, David.
I enjoyed living the last eight months of Allen’s life with him on a campus like you described warm hearth to be. It was very pleasant, and once I am at all in need of assistance I will be glad to return to such a place. In California, they are outrageously expensive so I may move to middle Tennessee where my goddaughter lives, and her mom.
I do recoil somewhat from the price, but when you think about those various services obtained while living-in-place at home, they are not quite as wild as they first seem. Even so, these facilities are not the answer for the surge of wage-earner retirees who could barely make monthly payments, much less squirrel away a million dollars.
Hi Fred,
As I will be 86 years old tomorrow, I am following your quest with great interest.
from AI:
The Transition: From Hearth to Assisted Haven
In twilight’s hush, where memories reside,
A choice unfolds—a path we must decide.
From cherished hearth, where independence thrives,
To assisted haven, where compassion thrives.
The walls that whispered secrets through the years,
Now echo solitude, unbidden tears.
The kitchen table, worn by countless meals,
Lies silent, as nostalgia’s ache reveals.
The garden blooms, once tended by your hand,
Now waits for spring, as seasons shift and stand.
The creaking stairs, the well-worn rocking chair,
Bear witness to a life both rich and rare.
But time, relentless, nudges us along,
To unfamiliar halls, where echoes throng.
Assisted living—words both hope and fear—
A bridge between what was and what draws near.
The rooms, impersonal, yet warm with care,
Await your presence, stories yet to share.
The nurses, like new friends, extend their hand,
Guiding steps toward this uncharted land.
And so, we navigate this tender space,
Balancing memories with hope’s embrace.
For in this shift, where vulnerability lies,
We find community—a shared sunrise.
The art of choosing, fraught with love and doubt,
Becomes a canvas where resilience sprouts.
And as you settle in, may courage bloom,
As life renews within this smaller room.
So here’s to you, dear soul, in twilight’s glow,
May assisted living’s grace and kindness flow.
May memories linger, like a hearth’s warm flame,
And may this chapter honor your life’s name. 🌟