Caring for Mom or Dad in Your Own Home

Mom (or Dad) is Moving in With Us

I would never place Mom in a nursing home!

Mom and Dad raised me. The least I can do is help Dad, now that he’s alone.

This is a topic no one wants to think about until there’s a crisis – moving Mom or Dad into your own home.

Dad can’t live alone.

Mom and I still enjoy our time, together.

Paige Estigarribia, writer for The Dollar Stretcher, planted a seed in my mind when she asked to interview me about preparing one’s home for a live-in parent. While our schedules didn’t mesh for the interview, the topic deserves consideration.

Dad’s Moving In

My husband and I made the life-changing decision to move my father from his Wisconsin home of 45 years into our California home in 1996. This was three years after my mother died. My father was beginning to show signs of dementia.

He thought he was visiting us. Instead, I bought a one-way ticket. I felt sad knowing this would be the last time he would see his home.

It was no easy transition from Milwaukee – the city by the lake (Michigan) to the High Desert of California along the southwestern edge of the Mojave Desert.

Your experience may be different. Here is what we learned as we adapted to living under the one roof.

Prepare the Living Area

To help him feel welcome in his new home, we improved upon his prior living experience. For instance, in his own home, he slept in a twin bed downstairs next to his desk. He bathed (infrequently) upstairs and shaved at the utility sinks in the basement.

We bought all new bedding and even flannel sheets to help keep his frail aging body warm. When winter came, we bought him a down comforter.

My husband bought him all new grooming supplies, including a battery-operated razor. This helped reduce the cuts from shaving with the single-edged razors my father used for most of his life.  We’d hear the motorized razor running throughout the day and night. He must have liked how it felt against his face or the shave was never quite as close as what he was used to.

We filled the book cases in his room with assorted books and magazines. We subscribed to the Sunday edition of the Los Angeles Times. Most Sundays, he’d go through the classifieds and circle jobs. He was 86-years old and there were few if any jobs for machinists in “the entertainment capital of the world.”

We even took him clothes shopping – something he had not done in 30 to 40 years!

Privacy Needs

My husband and I slept with our bedroom door open. As my father grew increasingly disoriented he had difficulty discerning night from day. He’d be up and dressed, ready to go to work at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning. He’d turn on the light in our room, shocking us awake. After we unplugged the lamp, he pointed a flashlight in our faces.

As the sleep-interrupted nights wore on, we began locking the door. It tore my heart to hear him jiggle the knob trying to get in. He was confused and searching for someone… anyone to help him as he didn’t want to be late for work.

In the Kitchen

Living with dementia, my father forgot how to do the simple things. He loved eating peanut butter out of the jar. He had his own jar to enjoy. When he finished, he’d place the spoon in the toaster. Once, I found the jar of peanut butter below the sink among the cleaning supplies. We kept the toaster unplugged and relocated dangerous cleaning supplies to the garage.

Learning and Adapting Together

As the months passed we made adjustments. We kept our eyes open to what was needed. We knew very little before my father came to live with us. As his dementia progressed, we accommodated accordingly. For example, after he grew irritated at that man who mimicked his every move and word, my husband reversed the full-length closet door mirrors. No more confusion about his reflection.

For more information, read Paige’s article here: Getting Your Home Ready to Provide Care for Parents.