Just got back from a visit with my mother and siblings in North Georgia. It’s always good to see Mom, who will be 97 years old this July, as well as my extended family. Mom lives in a small assisted living facility in Royston, GA, having moved there two years ago.

The past two years since her move there have been a revelation for me about aging in America. An ever greater number of us are living to be very old (85+). Sue will be 81 this year, and I will turn 77 in July. It’s possible we could live into our 90s– not an altogether happy prognosis!

Mom was fortunate to have been able to live on her own until she was 95–thanks to good genes, good health, and, most importantly, having caring and supportive children nearby. She was widowed nearly 20 years ago, but she stayed in her home and did not give up driving, at least around town, until her late 80s. She did a lot for herself, worked as she could in her house and yard, enjoyed watching all the birds that visited her, and worried about her lawn and garden. Every Sunday, she was in her favorite pew at the Methodist Church where she taught Sunday school and served on many committees. The church was an important parts of her life, and her faith remains strong and unshakeable.

I never lived in GA as I was in college when the family moved there upon my father’s retirement from the Navy in 1967, but my three siblings, Sandy, Glenda and Dale are proud Georgians and have all lived near Mom for years . Following Dad’s passing in 2006, Mom lived on her own, but my brother and sisters checked in with her frequently and stopped by to visit, help with chores, and run errands. Over the last decade, she has needed more help with shopping and medical appointments, especially as her macular degeneration progressively worsened.

In the summer of 2023, after a series of falls and fainting spells, Mom herself recognized that the time had come for her to give up her independence. Simultaneously, Glenda, who had been trying unsuccessfully to find a suitable and affordable place for more than a year, came upon what seemed to be the perfect solution: The Gables in Royston, GA, only 15 miles from Mom’s home.

The Gables is a lovely small and reasonably priced facility with 70 or so residents, each in their own apartment. The staff are caring and kind, and Mom was able to move into a two room apartment on short notice. Much of the summer of 2023 was spent in going through Mom’s things and reducing her possessions to the minimum. She shed some tears and fretted over letting go of a life time of memories. That process is hard for everyone, and there are always regrets and second guesses.

Fortunately Mom has been happy and has made friends at the Gables; one of the biggest benefits is that the staff dispense her medicines and eye drops as scheduled, relieving her of the anxiety and worry of having to deal with them herself. Staff clean her apartment and make her bed daily, and they do her laundry as needed. Recently for an additional monthly charge, she has begun to get help bathing and dressing, mostly because of her macular degeneration.

Doctor visits and emergency room trips occur on a frequent basis, and she alway needs someone to accompany her and act as her advocate and amanuensis; that task usually falls on Glenda and Dale, especially since I am 1500 miles away. My siblings visit her frequently, and unlike many of her fellow residents who complain about the lack of visitors, Mom has managed to maintain some longtime friendships. In fact, one of her favorite activities is playing dominoes with a group of lady friends every Friday afternoon–sometimes joined by my brother, Dale. When I visit with Mom, I always look forward to playing (and bantering) with the ladies!

She loves the staff, and it certainly seems as if they love her; but as a resident you give up all privacy and modesty. The staff are in and out of your room many times a day, and bathroom functions often become a communal affair, but this is the exchange you make for peace of mind and necessary care. Mom’s comfortable way of life is in great contrast to that of her 98 year old sister, Isabel.

Unlike Mom, who receives social security and VA benefits (from my Dad’s service in the Navy) and has a small nest egg from the sale of her home, Aunt Bel had few sources to fall back on when it came time to go into a nursing home. So Aunt Bel, having surrendered her social security and government employment pensions, lives in a Medicare paid for nursing home where she shares a room with a parade of roommates and receives very spotty and inadequate medical care. Her food is served erratically and is usually cold, and she often has to wait for hours for help with her basic needs, like bathing, and most importantly bathroom functions, but she is very stoic and naturally cheerful and has made the best of her situation, but it is not an enviable or deserved life. Both Mom and Aunt Bel have been blessed with good memories and clear thinking, but the onset of dementia is something they both fear.

Which kind of care awaits us?