My caretaking duty is coming to a close
For the last three years, I’ve been living with and caretaking for my grandfather. He’s 87 years old, and his needs have progressed beyond what I’m capable of handling. The hard reality is that he now has to live in an assisted living home. From what I’ve heard from the family members who helped make this decision, the assisted living home sounds like a 5-star hotel. They took my grandpa on a tour and they were all impressed by it. Compared to the other assisted living homes I’ve seen and heard about, I don’t think they really get much better than this. He’s reluctant about how expensive it will be. He’s sad and nervous about leaving his house of 48 years to go to a completely foreign place. I would be too. The memories that were made in this house are deeply cherished. For my entire life, this was grandma’s and grandpa’s house–a moniker that has a far greater meaning to us than the literal words alone. It carries with it the wholesomeness, the hospitality, the love, the childhood memories. This house will be put up for sale when my grandpa goes into assisted living, and he wants me to live here until it gets sold.