The book deals with the stark realities of aging and death---and what medicine can (and cannot do) for better or worse.
The book is both moving and insightful. It is also very sad. Many specific situations are cited about elderly people and their care needs, and the challenges to families, as abilities shrink. All of the material in the book strikes me in a deeply personal way, both from the perspective of the memories that I have of my mother's final years with Alzheimers, as well as from the perspective of wondering what my own process of dying might be like. I want to prepare for that in the best way that I can, but reading this book reminds me of unpredictable the process of moving from independence to dependence, from frailty to disability can be. There is no way to know what a person's process might be.
As I read about the elderly people and their resistance to being moved out of their homes and into assisted living centers, or nursing homes, that got me to thinking about how I feel about living in my (current) home. And then it struck me---as much as I love this home, this house, as much as I enjoy living here and enjoying all the benefits of space and privacy, my own kitchen, watching the birds flutter and the grass grow, I realized that I have always felt that it is temporary. In the end, everything is.
Tracing my own history reveals that the longest I have ever lived in one house is 13 years. We have lived here for ten years now, which was my goal when we moved here. If we manage 4 more, I will have lived here more than any other home in my entire life. That is surely a very different kind of feeling from someone who has lived their whole lives in one house, or 30 or 40 years.
And that kind of feeling of transience shows in our possessions. Our furnishings are much more sparse than other homes I visit. We do not own fine china, or have collections of treasures, or art. We have comfortable furniture and a good solid bedroom set. We have a spare bedroom for family overnights and a study with two computers. I already know that none of our collective seven children are likely to want to acquire many of our possessions. I am totally at peace with that.
The things that really matter in the end (according to the book I am reading) are having a purpose, something/someone to take care of, friends, companionship., having some control over our daily lives and choices.
In one riotous nursing home experiment described in the book, every resident received a parakeet. It was very effective in bringing life into their dreary existence.
If I end up alone, in my pre-assisted living, nursing home years, perhaps I will acquire some furry friend.
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