America has an abundance of elder-care facilities. The Yellow Pages are filled with businesses that specialize in caring for the elderly. They have life-care facilities that offer patients lifetime care, nursing homes that supply medical needs, and acute care for our loved ones. I’ve read that this type of extensive care can range form $2,000 to $ 4,000 per month. Some care facilities may charge as much  as $50,000  to $300,000 as a deposit for a lifetime care service.

These nursing homes are necessary, and I’m glad they’re available. However, like my Grandma before me, I believe there’s no better medicine for great-grandma or great-grandpa then to be a part of their daily lives, to see and hear the sights and sounds of a household, to smell the aroma of a favorite recipe simmering on the kitchen stove,  to hear the sound of a grandchild’s  tears and laugher- the whole nine yards of sharing the invigorating experience of life-in-progress.

In Grandma’s day taking in the elderly meant adding to an already crowded household. It meant three or four generations under one roof.  At times there would be slamming of doors, arguments galore and hurtful words screamed out in anger. It also meant there would be shrieks of joy, plenty of encouraging words, doors being opened, shared disappointments, comfort, hugs, and kisses while all the while he music of Puccini echoed down the hall. Most of all, it meant being a family.

I remember asking  Grandma how she tolerated having to care for her ailing parents as well as the inconvenience of so many generations crowding  her household?  Grandma smiled and responded with an old-world tale written by Jacob Grimm. It’s a generational story that has stayed with me all of these years.                                                                    

There once was an old man who lived in a village with his son and his son’s wife and child. The old man was deaf and blind and had trouble eating his food without spilling it. Sometimes, accidentally , the old man would drop his son’s fine china and break it. The son and his wife were disgusted by the old man and made him eat out of a wooden bowl behind the stove. One day the little grandson was working with some pieces of wood. When his father asked him what he was making, the little boy answered, “I’m making a wooden trough  for you and Mother to eat out of when I’m grown up.”  The next day, the old grandfather was back at the table eating outr of his son’s best china. Not another word was said on the matter.

The realization that we’re all going to be there someday is reason enough for compassion

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