In the Batter's Box

Early the following week, I brought Dad for his regular visit. He would move in himself at the end of the week. 

I had scheduled mom's caregiver meeting for the same time. My plan was to go to the meeting and then go back and visit with both parents before taking Dad back to the Garden for lunch. 

I told him about the new facility on our drive. I told him that he could come out and be in the same facility, but not the same room or hall. 

I had planned to spend twenty minutes settling both of them. I knew from the last few months that they both generally sat in mom's room, chatting, looking at magazines or napping. Unfortunately Dad took an instant dislike to mom's room. It was too dark. The other room had been much better. I tried to implement my strategies of assurance and tell him what mom had said, but it didn't seem to take. 

I went to the meeting and was impressed. The place Mom had come from had not had anything like this meeting. Even the gentleman who ran the cafeteria came and found out what mom liked to eat (dessert). 

At the end of the meeting, an aid brought mom and dad into the room. They had been looking for me. 

Things continued in the same vein as previous. I had planned to stay longer, but given the tone, I decided it was time to take Dad back to the Garden.