January 2-8, 1997 -- the dark side of assisted living, visions of Mom

I was in New York City during these days. If downtown Mercer Island is a long way from where Mom lives, imagine how far away New York is -- and yet thoughts of Mom and her world came back to me now and then on this trip.

The Dark Side of Assisted Living Twice I was reminded of the hard side of assisted living, of the owners and managers who have sleazed their way into the business with the same scruples that their moral antecedents brought to tenement house management and meat-packing a century ago. I was riding in the hotel elevator one evening, and a man got on with a person who appeared to be his wife, but who seemed to be cringing away from him. He was perhaps seventy, but looked ninety; his face was distorted into a stereotype of evil. The thought came to me: "This man made his money charging high prices and providing poor service to the infirm elderly." I have no idea who or what he really was, but the experience made me realize how profoundly (if quietly) outraged I am at what I will call the dark side of assisted living -- the businessmen and women in some institutions who think of their clients as captive profit centers. Another episode in New York also resonated with my feelings about the ethics of assisted living. I was chairing a session on the Puritans at the American Historical Association. One of the presenters gave a paper about a particular colonial American businessman who sought to live out his "sanctification" in his work. When accused of selling second class goods, he replied, that he always ran his business as if God were watching his every move. Anyone who makes money caring for the elderly should have that motto on their desk. These two episodes brought home to me the degree to which I have become concerned about assisted living -- the way that a part of my mind has set up shop to ruminate about it. I have seen all too much of the greedy -- the fundamentally evil -- behavior that the quest for profits in elder-care can produce. With Mom where she is now, fortunately, I have also seen a more enlightened corporate mentality. Visions of Mom In such ways, thoughts about the business of assisted living accompanied me to New York. So too did thoughts about my mother -- my own personal stake in the world of assisted living. One night after my wife and I had feasted and toured in the city, I awoke from a vivid dream in which Mom had been walking again. We were outside somewhere, and I had been helping her along, when suddenly she began walking quickly, all by herself. I don't usually remember my dreams, but this one was so vivid that it remained alive with me for several minutes as I lay in bed with the sounds of the New York streets outside. There she was moving along all by herself, and I remember her face too -- she had a big smile. A couple of days later my wife and I were attending a review at the Village Gate -- a humorous presentation of white music of the '50s and '60s by a black trio. The meal was good, the wine was good, and the show was fun. Then one of the songs drew me back to Seattle again. It was one of the poignant love songs that came along with the era of rock 'n' roll, and in its tenderness it led me to this realization: Mom was in her care facility in her dementia at that very moment and at every moment. And somewhere in the haze that has come over her mind, is the irreducible core of her being, still alive, still aware. While the world goes on about its business and I go about my business, she endures -- so bravely, so patiently.