After my maternal grandmother passed away, I visited my grandfather as often as possible. One day, I had my hand on the doorknob ready to leave when Grandpa asked me to sit down. He had something to discuss with me. I sat and gave him my full attention.
You can see the sadness in Grandpa’s face.
It took him a moment to collect his thoughts. At 81, his three daughters thought he should no longer live alone. They wanted him to sell his house and move in with my parents who lived 15 minutes away. Grandpa lived in his house for over 50 years. He’d built his business in a building across the yard from his house. His church was two blocks away and he walked there every Sunday.
I was completely out of my depth but I saw the sadness in his eyes at the thought of leaving a place that was his home. He had complete control over what happened inside his four walls. If he wanted to rearrange the furniture or ask a contractor to change something it was entirely his decision to do so.
Living with someone else, you have a place to live but where you live is not your home. It belongs to someone else. You cannot change or alter anything. You must adjust your life and schedule to fit their habits. He finally agreed to their wishes, sold his house, and moved in with my parents. The photo you see above was taken on the patio at my parents’ house. He was loved and well cared for. But I’m not sure there was much joy in his existence.
As I grow older, I think of that conversation with Grandpa. Would my face mirror his given the same set of circumstance.