Parents Grow Old

I have frequently been told It’s not nice growing old Often with advancing years Comes blood, sweat and tears

My dad had always been so strong We thought he’d just go on and on But when things got too tough He found he’d really had enough

It was hard work he’d done In years of caring for my mum And being a loving husband, devout He was now entirely worn out

It was late in the year 2015 That his tiredness was seen By then his life was such That it had got, for him, too much

His own health wasn’t great We could not him berate That the time had come He needed help looking after mum

Dad now began to ask For help with every task He was struggling to see What the future might be

It was just before Christmas holiday Which obviously made some delay In our many efforts to find Some support to ease his mind

I needed to very quickly learn To where, for help, we could turn What support exists out there For those who are trying to care?

Doctors, nurses, and health workers CPNs, personal assistants, social workers And there are domiciliary carers too That’s to name but just a few

Lots of online requests were applied And to them some people then replied There were various jobs to perform And I completed many a form

Frequently to them I needed to go Making ample journeys to and fro Surely I couldn’t help but heed In their great time of need

I am very pleased to report After Christmas came some support Someone to help them they did seek And Isabel visited twice a week

She was happy to do any task That of her they did ask Then there was further review To see what more they could do

The council said they would pay For four carer visits every day Helping mum to eat, wash and dress Should remove some of dad’s stress

But their idea of visit timing Left dad sadly moaning and whining Logically lunchtime shouldn’t come Before breakfast has been done

A friend offered trips to coffee mornings But the carers gave severe warnings That mum had for them to wait Even when they were very late

This unfortunate state of affair Caused dad even more despair He found it so hard to know Whether he could come or go

I tried to do my very best To keep their diary, a digest Of everywhere they were meant To be, including each appointment

Often, from my home afar I had to arrange a car To take them to another test Allowing me little time to rest

Then they also needed shopping There was really no stopping Of the tasks that needed action So they could just simply function

Then came the difficult call To say mum had had a fall They’d taken her away For a hospital stay

Thus we hurried off to Wexham Park And returned home after dark Her stay there seemed very long As yet another thing went wrong

Eventually she was let out
After that particular bout Into a nursing home with care She recuperated there

Meanwhile dad was still at home Feeling, I am sure, very alone Without mum living there No one came to give him care

Thus it began to come to light That he needed help in his own right Everywhere I could, I did report He really needed his own support

Bureaucracy does move slow I’m sure you may well know But finally, to give dad a break A local care home did him take

This was just a temporary measure And, for him, it was no pleasure For he had such a troubled mind Sadly, there no peace could he find

It seems that almost every day He worried what other people did say His head was so full of doubt That he chose to break out

Finally, this spell came to an end When they were both on the mend They returned to their bungalow And carers into them did go

For a while they carried on But, for dad, the days seemed long They wanted to stay together But he was at the end of his tether

Mum’s health continued up and down Sometimes with joy, sometimes a frown It was terribly difficult and hard to see From one day to the next how she would be

At times she had a troubled mind And the doctor could not find What was going on in her head At other times she stayed in bed

As she had forgotten how to walk No matter how encouraging your talk And she was very prone to UTIs To treat them needed someone wise

Mum had a diagnosis of dementia Meaning extra care was needed for her We added her to a waiting list So a care home place wasn’t missed

You’re told, of homes, there is a choice But not unless you use your voice And, even then, it can be a race To win that valuable, funded place

We’d hoped mum would stay near Because, otherwise, we did fear That in dad’s later life He’d barely see his wife

We sought her a place in Marlow But in the end mum had to go Almost four miles up the hill We trusted that this was God’s will

At least now we could be sure Even though there is no cure For old age, her needs were met And the help required she would get

Meanwhile dad was still at home Once again left on his own I did encourage him to try To see if he could get by

But he now struggled to cope And would often start to mope In the end he was assessed To see what care for him was best

By the council we were told that An independent-living flat Was probably the right place But currently there was no space

There was more time to wait Then finally we got a date And whereabouts was he to go? Next door to mum, oh good-oh!

More trips were to come To empty out their old home Doing things between here and there Was quite a logistical nightmare

There was so much paperwork It could make you go berserk Tenancy and contracts to end Enough to drive you round the bend

In some ways this time was sad But I wanted to help mum and dad I longed earnestly for the time to come When dad would be much closer to mum

However, guess what happened next? Yes, we were all very vexed As I am sorry to have to say Dad had another hospital stay

So, as if behind his back His whole house I did pack And when it came to moving day He was still on his hospital stay

And thus it was, it had to be That I went and got his key But how would I know where To put things, without him there?

And how would I explain to mum What of her husband had become? I really tried her to reassure He’d soon be there, next door

But with dementia as a condition She often had little recognition Forgot what had been said, and Simple things couldn’t understand

The days once again went by And with much effort I did try To get dad to his new flat But it took awhile did that

When, at last, he did move in People wondered how he’d been And he really couldn’t find where I’d unpacked his things there

Given the passing of time Things, generally, were fine Dad settled down to life Pretty close to his wife

But he would never go to see Her, without a friend or me Although she really was so near There was something he did fear

Maybe the problem was the code number That he could never remember Or maybe he worried he’d have a fall If he ventured, alone, down that hall

Isabel and friends were very good Visiting and bringing food Ensuring that they saw each other Even when it was probably a bother

So life, like this, carried on Who knew where time had gone? Then in March 2019 I was extremely keen

That we should help celebrate Mum and dad’s wedding date The anniversary of sixty (diamond) years Hip hip hooray! Well done! Three cheers!

Friends and relatives from far and wide Came to party where mum did reside Bringing with them so much love and kisses Joyfully celebrating their time as Mr and Mrs

Back in his flat dad’s life went on But often he said things were wrong And soon it became quite evident Dad really wasn’t independent

He needed help more and more Barely managing to do any chore Little things took him an age And he often did not engage

He believed things weren’t quite right And later on it came to light That the professional view Was that he had dementia too

Soon his care was reassessed And I’m sure that you have guessed What it was that I asked for Could he be moved in next door?

Oh, that it were that easy! And it wasn’t just to please me Hence I really did protest That this would be for the best

But I was told, ‘No’ For there he could not go And the carers then agreed They could still meet his need

But just a couple of weeks later Something for which they couldn’t cater Meant he was whisked away For another hospital stay

Soon he was medically fit But not really ‘up to it’ The carers said he was too slow Back into his flat to go

Although it was an obvious solution It took weeks for resolution Everyone involved had to agree And needed a room to be free

Then things were sorted such that He never went back to his flat He moved straight into Holmers House Across the corridor from his spouse

So once again it fell to me His vacant property to empty Clothes and small things went next door But he still had so much more

Finally, this job was done The next phase of his life begun I was so very happy to see He, with mum, daily could be

Then along came ‘that’ virus To disrupt things for us It was with an air of gloom Dad was confined to his bedroom

But, then, after a bit As the staff were all still fit He was allowed out again And didn’t alone remain

He and mum were now able To dine together at the table In the lounge they could abide And sit there side by side

Guess what? Mum is sick again In her room, and in some pain She has a nasty, chesty cough And the antibiotics haven’t seen it off

However, we should not despair As we can come to God in prayer He will protect us all from harm With his mighty, outstretched arm

So hopefully it’s clear from this rhyme You should only take one day at a time As we mere humans cannot foresee What the next phase of our future will be