Pop planned to stay with me for three weeks. We get along great and both look forward to our time together. We go for walks, sit and read quietly, talk about theology, life experiences, cry a little and laugh a lot. Pop comes with me to the office where he sits in his rocking chair by the window and reads while he listens with one ear as I work.
Pop has been pondering moving in with me so each time he comes, we consider it another trial run. A little less than two weeks into his last visit, Pop began to get noticeably restless. As much as we were enjoying our time at my house, he was simply missing his. As a good friend of his once said, “my house may be a mess to some people but it’s my mess.” Pop wanted to go home to his mess, where he is most comfortable.
I get it – senior home care is what I am about. We had planned to have steamed oysters for our Thanksgiving dinner but all the rains caused the oyster beds to be closed. So we packed our stuff and headed to Pop’s house, picking up a can of oysters on the way. As Pop said grace over our Thanksgiving meal of fried oysters and jalapeno cornbread in his home, I was doubly thankful he still has the choice of living at home – safely and comfortably in his own mess.