When my mom came to the end of her run in Colorado and I came to the end of my ability to help her stay there, I went out to bring her to a retirement home near me in California. She didn’t fight me on this, although she had resisted it previously; she knew she was no longer able to manage alone. Sitting in her living room, surrounded by half filled boxes, she said, “If I don’t like it there, I will come back.”
“No,” I said. “You’re not coming back.” The minute we left, her husband’s son would sell the condo. There was no turning back.
“Then I’m not going,” she said.