Oh...Wow.
So....
I got a phone call last night from mi padre who informed me that my grandmother (the one I talked about, like, two entries ago) was in hospital just for observation after there'd been a fire in her kitchen when she was toasting some bread under the grill in the stove and had forgotten about it. Thank God that she called the fire brigade and waited outside for them. They called both my father and my step-mother, who got there first because she works nearby, and they met my grandmother at the hospital where everything was deemed fine.
For now the house is unlivable and people will be going out there on Monday, I think, to check it out and see what kind of work needs to be done or if it just needs to be washed up. My dad said that the whole kitchen was black (I said that perhaps it was a Godsend...Covers up the uneven wall paper, you know), and for the next couple of weeks until this thing gets sorted my grandma is living with my dad, my step-mother and her two daughters.
My dad said that he and my uncle (the one I also mentioned a little while ago) will start to clean the place up as soon as they are able. Dad said that he (my uncle) was kind of into the idea...I suggested that might only be because he thinks there'll be some money around, which my father thought was both unkind and likely. Doesn't matter, though, because my dad and step-mother have - as of the day before this whole thing - power of attorney for my grandma, so at least this way any assets she does have will be taken care of and not latched onto by my greedy uncle.
Oy.
I'm glad that we were over there a couple weeks back to clean up. I mean, if we hadn't the whole place seriously would have gone up.
I hope now my dad can see that she really needs some help, you know? I mean, granted, people set fires to their kitchens all the time - it really can happen to anyone - but in conjunction with all of the other stuff (the forgetfulness, the inability to care for herself as she used to and so forth), something has to be done. I mean, on a good day, some in-home care where the cleaning can be dealt with and some meals can be organised would be great...But between you and I (and my father, increasingly), it's looking like selling the house and using the funds from that to organise some other kind of care might be better in the long term. Naturally my dad doesn't want to have to go there, and of course one can understand why - I couldn't ever imaging getting to a point where I have to make these decisions for my parents - but it's beginning to look like a sooner-rather-than-later kind of deal.
So yeah. Not really a great situation. I mean, I couldn't ever imagine being in that place, where both your acuity and memory are going and you're having some real difficulty looking after yourself in your own home. I mean, my grandmother went through a lot to get that little house, and so did my grandfather (bless his complicated but well-meaning soul) , you know? In a way, my childhood is built around that place and I couldn't bear having to clean it out for the last time, let alone be there to empty it out to sell the place.
God, I sometimes hate having to be a part of a family, as cruel as it sounds. You wouldn't have to help make painful decisions, or see people you care about deteriorate and be in distress. You wouldn't ever have to admit your own pain and involvement in situations like these...You could be big, strong and in control at all times, which has always been my (more than slightly unreasonable) goal.
Anyway. Yeah. That's that for now, I think.
I got a phone call last night from mi padre who informed me that my grandmother (the one I talked about, like, two entries ago) was in hospital just for observation after there'd been a fire in her kitchen when she was toasting some bread under the grill in the stove and had forgotten about it. Thank God that she called the fire brigade and waited outside for them. They called both my father and my step-mother, who got there first because she works nearby, and they met my grandmother at the hospital where everything was deemed fine.
For now the house is unlivable and people will be going out there on Monday, I think, to check it out and see what kind of work needs to be done or if it just needs to be washed up. My dad said that the whole kitchen was black (I said that perhaps it was a Godsend...Covers up the uneven wall paper, you know), and for the next couple of weeks until this thing gets sorted my grandma is living with my dad, my step-mother and her two daughters.
My dad said that he and my uncle (the one I also mentioned a little while ago) will start to clean the place up as soon as they are able. Dad said that he (my uncle) was kind of into the idea...I suggested that might only be because he thinks there'll be some money around, which my father thought was both unkind and likely. Doesn't matter, though, because my dad and step-mother have - as of the day before this whole thing - power of attorney for my grandma, so at least this way any assets she does have will be taken care of and not latched onto by my greedy uncle.
Oy.
I'm glad that we were over there a couple weeks back to clean up. I mean, if we hadn't the whole place seriously would have gone up.
I hope now my dad can see that she really needs some help, you know? I mean, granted, people set fires to their kitchens all the time - it really can happen to anyone - but in conjunction with all of the other stuff (the forgetfulness, the inability to care for herself as she used to and so forth), something has to be done. I mean, on a good day, some in-home care where the cleaning can be dealt with and some meals can be organised would be great...But between you and I (and my father, increasingly), it's looking like selling the house and using the funds from that to organise some other kind of care might be better in the long term. Naturally my dad doesn't want to have to go there, and of course one can understand why - I couldn't ever imaging getting to a point where I have to make these decisions for my parents - but it's beginning to look like a sooner-rather-than-later kind of deal.
So yeah. Not really a great situation. I mean, I couldn't ever imagine being in that place, where both your acuity and memory are going and you're having some real difficulty looking after yourself in your own home. I mean, my grandmother went through a lot to get that little house, and so did my grandfather (bless his complicated but well-meaning soul) , you know? In a way, my childhood is built around that place and I couldn't bear having to clean it out for the last time, let alone be there to empty it out to sell the place.
God, I sometimes hate having to be a part of a family, as cruel as it sounds. You wouldn't have to help make painful decisions, or see people you care about deteriorate and be in distress. You wouldn't ever have to admit your own pain and involvement in situations like these...You could be big, strong and in control at all times, which has always been my (more than slightly unreasonable) goal.
Anyway. Yeah. That's that for now, I think.