So yesterday when it was almost time for Margaret and me to go, Dad told her that it was time for them to make some decisions. They needed to decide, he said, whether he was going to move in with her or whether he was going to go back to the house. This was wildly premature, but it didn't seem politic to say so. Instead I suggested that they both try Assisted Living for a while so they could both get stronger and more ready to live independently.
They didn't laugh me out of the room at least. Margaret said she wanted to see what the Assisted Living facility is like. She's always objected to Skilled Nursing on the grounds that most of the people there are fairly catatonic. I know that she'll find the Assisted Living residents a lot livelier since we've already seen them.
Mostly I just want to have them together for Christmas, and it's just too soon for Dad to move out. He can't even sit up in bed by himself. Neither of them can open a twist-off bottle without help. Neither of them get around too well; neither of them drive too well either.
I don't know if they'll go for it. I'm sure Dad's fed up with nursing home care, and I'm sure Margaret is far from eager to volunteer for it. But at least I tried, and there's some chance it might happen. We have an informal appointment to see the Assisted and Independent Living rooms next Thursday. Yay!
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