Chez Kay
Andrew Kay discovers that where there is a will there’s a way
In recent weeks my brother and I have been thrown into slight panic by the parents. Sturdy beasts they were – until the last few years – when niggling ailments leave them frustrated and vulnerable. Dad, a skilled master stonemason, a committed yoga enthusiast and now retired yoga teacher, and a serious cyclist still at 74 years old, has, since retirement, endured the indignity of two hip replacements and a multiple by-pass. A non-smoker and very occasional drinker with an obsession with fitness it just doesn’t seem fair. Mum has wobbliness, no firm reason but she tumbles over rather a lot and hurts herself. I can cry at the injustice of this and sometimes I do, as if rampant ageism were not enough, to work all you life only to retire and become sick seems like the final indignity.
“As if rampant ageism were not enough, to retire and become sick seems like the final indignity.”
Of course, we now face the issue of increasing infirmity and dependence. Can they cope? What can we do? Given that the pair of them are stubborn old mules it’s not easy. Mum insisted that Dad walks with a stick but resolutely refuses to do so herself. “There’s nothing wrong with me love,” she cries, when clearly there is.
This week Dad spent an hour on the phone berating the local cleansing department about the fact they they have to walk their waste and recycling a good 100 metres from their front door to a communal collection point. In the end, the man on the other end put a note in the file to authorise an assisted pick up. Quite right too as they both have disabilities. “Well done!” I cried. “Yes, I’ve just wheeled it all round the front for the last time I hope.” I pointed out that he should have not done that as they would no doubt report back that, despite the note, the residents of the cottage are clearly quite capable of delivering the rubbish to a common pick up point in order to make the official cleansing operatives’ lives easier. He could not see the point.
Discussions of this kind are always difficult so imagine the horrors of broaching the subject of wills and ‘arrangements’. It’s not easy, I know because I had my will properly written and that was painful enough.
“We have nothing to leave in a will.” they insist. It’s not that simple. We want to know what they want and not what they have got. Without clear instructions and guides what do you do?
I suppose we could send Mum off to ‘I Can’t Help Falling (In Love With You)’ and Dad to a rousing chorus of ‘Rock Of Ages’. I plan to show them this in the hope that it might jolt them into action. Feel free to do the same if you are in a similar position.
