Moving My Resistant Father to a Retirement Community

My dad, born in 1920, grew up in a family that fled the landlord in the middle of the night to avoid paying the rent. So moving into his own home in 1954 and wanting to remain in it until he died did not surprise me. After my mother died in 2001, dad decided that he could care for himself in spite of a multitude of chronic illnesses. We set up Life Alert. I invited him often for dinner when he still drove and brought him meals when he finally stopped driving. I took him to the grocery store, the barber, the doctor, the emergency room, and the drug store while I tried to put back the pieces of my own fractured life. He fell many times. We brought in a stair glide to enable him to sleep in his upstairs bedroom. We put in handrails and removed throw rugs. We hired a cleaning lady. Dad almost died in 2003 from aspirating pneumonia and spent time in various nursing homes. He rallied and returned to his beloved home but he was so lonely. When I called and asked him about his day, he responded, "Where is there to go? What is there to do?" Every time I mentioned that it was time to consider moving to independent living where he would have good nutrition and develop some friendships, he waved his hand in dismissal. Looking at the accumulation of stuff acquired in 50 years of never throwing anything away, he would tell me that it was too difficult, too overwhelming. Anything that didn't require food could remain in his home and so it did. In 2005, Dad was hospitalized 7 times for COPD and aspirating pneumonia. He refused to cooperate with the doctors' orders and was released from the hospital only to return again to the emergency room, sometimes on the same day. He had another stint in the nursing home where I spoke often about the urgency of moving to a safer place. He continued to resist, presenting me with a list of reasons why he couldn't afford to move. Every reason centered on an expense that he would no longer have once he sold the home. In desperation, he finally said, "I'm just not a social person!"  After much cajoling, he agreed to a respite at a nearby retirement community. We moved dad to a model apartment along with some of his clothes and his desk. Dad's desk was symbolic of the control he could still exercise over his life since it's where he paid his bills and reviewed his investments. Moving dad's desk to the respite room with dad made all the difference in his willingness to try something new and pretty scary. After three days he told me that he'd like to stay. In the next few years, he enjoyed good meals, friendships and fewer hospitalizations. He even told me I saved his life which prompted me to start Senior Move Services (www.seniormoveservices.com) so that I can help other people achieve the same quality of life as my dad enjoyed. 

In my next blog, I'll discuss how adult children can achieve the same results with their reluctant senior parents.