I don't know when or if my parents had last visited a nursing home. I do remember we used to visit Mum's aunts in a nursing home many, many years ago. I remember it well, but in recent times, I don't recall that they had. When Mum went into the nursing home, Dad was appalled at so many 'old' people there. I do think he actually meant old and terribly disabled - as some clearly remained in bed all the time. Even Mum's room mate sat in a chair all day and never spoke. She'd look at us with a strange half smile when we spoke. There was a one legged man who pushed his wheelchair around, and various other men and women in advanced stages of 'decay'. Dad hated it.
Mum, however, felt safe and comfortable there. (Oddly enough only today I have heard of another lady who recently went to a nursing home and feels safe and comfortable there - without being berated by HER husband who could not cope with her dementia. He'd even hit and bruised her!)
Dad would never have hurt my mother, and until she went into the home, he was always arguing with her about her mistakes. No wonder she found the nursing home to be some sort of a haven. Dad did continue to berate her, especially when she got mixed up. She'd say she visited her mother (but Dad knew that she had died almost 30 years ago) but he would argue with her - telling her she was stupid etc. He never could understand and just let her tell her stories without interrupting or correcting her. It used to make them both angry, but he couldn't stop.
Dad had meticulously prepared for his demise. He had a funeral fund - though clearly had no idea how much the modest funeral would cost. Some things he had done - we knew where he wanted his final service, and we knew the funeral director, and he had had his will done. Some things though I wish he had told us - his favourite music - (though read the ps for that), and other things that might have helped us in our hours after his death having to come to terms with some decisions.
But he didn't plan to get old, and he hated that his body was showing signs of wear and tear and that nothing seemed to slow down, for him, the ravages of old age. I think we all are in that position. From the day we are born we are heading to old age - though some sadly don't make it very far, and others take too long to get there.
And in the nursing home, Dad hated being surrounded by 'old people' as if he was there under some sort of strange guise that made him different from the others. That he had most of his mental faculties probably did make him different, though in the few short days I was visiting him, I met old blokes learning how to 'surf the net' - so they weren't all mental basket cases.
I had asked Dad about his favourite music just a day or so before he died, and he started singing "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" and he said it was his favourite. When we checked on the words, we decided it was not suitable for a funeral. So we had to choose something.
So some tips about this.
- Don't wait until you or your relative is on their death bed - make not of some of these things as soon as possible
- Favourite colour
- Favourite music
- Favourite things
Make a collection (or a short Powerpoint presentation) of photos. Find old photos, and recent ones, and include as many good ones or ones with appropriate family members. (We were busily scanning photos and working on the presentation just hours before the service and had to buy a scanner because no one we knew had one!)
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