Last Tuesday afternoon, two days before Thanksgiving, the (first) nursing home called to say they had a bed. Fumiko thinks this was because I had just mailed the application to the second nursing home the day before! (Although neither of the two applications they claimed to have mailed has ever arrived, I asked my son in Boston to go over there on Sunday, pick one up, scan it, and email it to me, which he did -- he's a computer professional with a houseful of hi-tech stuff).
So, after some jockeying, we arranged to bring Mom to Boston on Tuesday 11/27 for admission. Fumiko and I will take her on the train. Between now and then is Thanksgiving, packing, and a couple of good-bye parties. Although Mom may not remember the parties, perhaps they will help her accept the change, and they will definitely help others to deal with her leaving. (In particular, Mom has a devoted admirer at her day center who will be devastated at the loss. They originally met at Mom's previous day center, and this woman changed centers when Mom did, two years ago. I would call her a "friend," except that Mom seems relatively unconscious of this affection.)
Thanksgiving was very nice, at my daughter's in the suburbs of Westchester County. Mom seemed to enjoy herself, and only got cranky and demanding toward the end of the day. Coming home was a struggle -- first a car, then the train (crowded), then the elevator at 125th Station was broken, so two policemen carried Mom in her chair down two flights of stairs. Then the chair wouldn't fold up, so we took a bus rather than taxi home, arriving about 10 p.m.
On Friday I bought train tickets, and planned a party for all the current and recent helpers for Sunday. I also talked to Mom's doctor about the state of her bowels, which have been very loose lately, making toileting more of a problem; I'm worried about frequent toilet access during the 3.5-hour train ride. Today, Saturday, is for talking and packing. I decided to delay talking to Mom about the move until today, when I'm there for the day. Thanksgiving is complicated enough without adding Boston to the brew (though other family members were eager to discuss the new developments, and I had to keep shushing them). I don't know how Mom will react to the actuality of it. We have talked about it as a future event, and she behaved as though we were discussing a third person, but now it is definite. I don't want to have to drag her to the train kicking and screaming.
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