A bit more on the aunts, whom I loved dearly and think of often.

As the years rolled along, my children were growing, my schooling progressing, I had the joy of getting to know my elderly aunts as more than doting, childless relatives with a charming brogue, a fascinating single lifestyle in the world’s most exciting city and a checkbook for birthdays. I would visit more often and realized rather quickly they were both aging more rapidly and changing into people in need of more regular assistance. They were physically quite well, but mentally in the twilight of brilliant lives. A neighbor from the old sod was available to check in daily and assure they were maintaining the basic activities of daily living (and to give me a call if not). She was a God send. I did not realize how much so until one Sunday morning when she called, concerned, when she had not been able to reach them the evening before or early this morning.

A bit more than concerned, I called my brother who had a key and lived in the city. He checked the apartment and found it empty. I called a cousin in Jersey City to see if she had heard from them, but no luck. We next began calling hospitals and police stations in Manhattan as we headed for their neighborhood. A few hours later, we hit paydirt. They had been hospitalized the evening before (when Elizabeth had become aggressive after an evening’s libations, and Mary called 911 for assistance). Both were taken to a local ER and after Elizabeth was admitted, Mary collapsed…so there they both stayed. Upon our arrival, it clear this was a sentinel event for a higher level of care or assistance as they clearly needed 24/7 assistance.

And now started the clock…and the dance begins. The hospital, after initial evaluations (and Elizabeth biting more than one aide), announced both must be discharged. I balked, explaining we could not return them to their apartment safely and rooms in our choice of assisted living facilities (selfishly near my home and work) would not be available for 2 more days. After daily trips to the hospital in NY, I gave the social worker numbers where I knew I would not be and conveniently returned her calls after hours… until Friday evening (~5p). When we connected, I gambled she would not stay to ensure discharge occurred that evening and instead, would dump the business to the weekend coverage (which she did).

On Saturday, my brother rescued them (or the hospital?) and shepherded my aunts to our home in the ‘burbs. There, after a lovely lunch, we brought them to a beautiful facility (thank you for a successful high school friend with insights to start a business I would later need) where I had brought some of their things and furniture and began the move-in process. A new chapter of a complicated story.