The More Things Change...

We spent a large chunk of yesterday visiting my 92-year old father and my 84-year old mother. They lived in their own place until Nov. 2009, when they moved into an assisted living facility. Mom has an advanced case of dementia, and Dad just couldn't take care of her by himself anymore, so that seemed the best solution.

It's worked out well so far. The place where they live now is quite nice, and staffed by people who seem to genuinely care abut the residents. Mon and Dad have adjusted well.

One of the nice things about the facility is that they have daily shuttle bus serve to local grocery stores, doctor's offices, Wal-Mart, etc. My sister and I usually get by there at least once a week to bring them things they need (I usually slip Dad a six-pack or a bottle of wine), take them out for meals, and so forth.

As a result, Dad has realized he doesn't really need to drive anymore, so he's passed on his 1995 Crown Victoria to our 15-year old son. The car's in great shape - clean, well maintained, and with less than 115K miles on it (my truck has more than that). It also has a top-of-the-line sound system (well, it was top-of-the-line in 1995). Son was quite mystified at the slot in the dash labeled "cassette player."

The boy is all excited, and very possessive, about the car, even though he only has his learners permit (he won't be old enough for his full license for 3 more months). He was quite put out when neither my wife or I would give up our garage spots so he could park his car indoors, instead of leaving it outside exposed to the elements.

It brought to mind the time when I got my first car. It was a 1962 Rambler station wagon, with well over 100,000 miles on it. No A/C, a 3-speed on-the-column manual transmission, and an AM radio. My father 'gave' it to me (in exchange for a summer's worth of above-and-beyond chores). It wasn't until many years later that I found out the new car dealer only offered him $50 as a trade-in allowance.

But none of that mattered. It was MY car. It gave me freedom, or so I thought. I conveniently overlooked the parental requirements that I would now drive my younger sister to her appointments and events. I also overlooked certain operational details like paying for gas, insurance, maintenance and repairs, registration...

I see the same thing happening all over again, but this time from the perspective of a parent. I'm trying to tell him the same things my father told me, but I can see it going in one ear and out the other, just like 40-some years ago. I only hope he doesn't repeat ALL the mistakes I made when I was his age.

The more things change, the more they stay the same...