Family of One Deals with an Unusual Old Folks' Crisis

I was in High Point about ten days ago dealing with a very unusual crisis revolving around Aunt Louise. When you hear what it was, you will be so incensed. And, I have to say, dealing with it reminded me that sometimes it is good to be a Family of One, but sometimes, it would be nice to be a Family of Fifty or Sixty.

Before I tell you, I must relate an interesting exchange that took place on one of first nights there when Dad and I were watching the ALCS. I professed my affection for the Yankees. This caused a great outburst--wasn't I for the Red Sox?? Yes, I demurred, but I liked both a great deal with a slight edge going towards the Red Sox. "That is NOT allowed," affirmed Mother with much indignation. "You have to be for one or the other. Everyone knows that. Why do you have to do everything so oddly?"

I reminded them that, as a child, I had an undying fascination with anything revolving around New York or Boston. This all started when my father would regale us with stories from his quarterly trips to New York to buy toys, cosmetics, the 1960s versions of electronics, and other sundries for his drugstore chain. The restaurants--Gallaghers, The Forum of the Twelve Caesars, even The Playboy Club, the shows--Mame, Hello, Dolly, Half a Sixpence--it all sounded so fabulous. And, to top it off, my dad always brought me the latest Nancy Drew book from Macy's.

"So," Mother queried, "it is Dad's fault that you were not content to live in High Point like a person with good sense and that you had to move up North?" I indicated that she was correct. There proceeded much excoriating of my dear father who quietly accepted responsibility for sending me on the path that led to the glorious delights of living in Boston and New York.

My aunt lives in a very nice, government-subsidized apartment building for the elderly which is owned by the Wesleyan church in the High Point area. They somehow got it into their heads to sell it to the local university for a dormitory and had a meeting where they announced to the 89 residents that they would need to find a place a live--pronto. Most of the folks there do not have cars and, of course, had been expecting to live out their lives there. There were no immediate openings in local assisted living or independent living communities. After the local TV station featured it as the opening story on the evening news, all you know what broke loose and, by the time I got to High Point, the spokesperson for the Wesleyan church had apologized for being a bit too hasty, the local university was posting disclaimers everywhere that they did not realize that the old folks had no place to go, and the government had threatened the church with serious repercussions for violating their contract.

The folks who live there have been given a year to find a place and have been assured that the place will not be sold until every person has found a place to live. This has taken considerable pressure off Aunt Louise who has gone on record as saying that she hopes her next destination is her heavenly home. When told this, Mother snorted and said, "she should be so lucky". Mother has forbidden me to try to help her because, of course, what do I know about how to find an old person a place to live?

As for having a family, I have dear friends who helped me research what was going on, brainstorm solutions, and provide moments of much-needed levity. I was taking my beloved J to breakfast the day after I found out and I said to him that there had been a crisis with Aunt Louise. His response, so very kind, was "has she passed?" My response, maybe not so kind, but accurate: "would that be a crisis?"

After visiting Aunt Louise, Mother wanted nothing more than a trip to Belk's, the local emporium, at a somewhat nice shopping mall. But, what would we do with my dad, she wondered? I said, very matter-of-factly, "why can't he sit in the car?" Just as matter-of-factly, Mother replies, "oh, no, someone will shoot him". I told her that I had not heard of any murders in the Oak Hollow Mall area in several months, but she was adamant that he could not sit in the car. Instead, we took a drive all through the backroads of Guilford County and it was a lovely end to the weekend.