Tag: assisted living

Wednesday’s Theme Music – Far Away

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 25, 2026.

It’s a quietly rainy day out there. Clouds are cemented together against encroachments of sunshine and blue sky. Temperature isn’t bad, 51 F. 54 F is the prospective high.

Made an appointment with a urologist for a cystoscopy in May to figure out what caused the blood in my urine. It’s abated, far as I can tell but other tests show something growing in my bladder. They’re going to go in and see what that is.

I haven’t read much news this morning. A ‘something is about to happen’ vibe seems to be humming. Trump had threatened bombings which were against modern rules of war and gave a Monday PM deadline. Then, Monday morning, he reversed himself. That news changed financial markets. Traders made money by making moves just fifteen minutes before Trump made his announcement that he was holding off on further bombing.

What a coincidence.

I did read another comprehensive story about Epstein’s death.

I’m indulging in another day of reflections about Mom. We, her family, can’t just converse with her without it spiraling into deeply disturbing, frustrating patterns. She’s now saying the same thing about her primary assisted living contact that she said about my sister and about Frank. “She’s mean to me. She screams at me. I’m so unhappy here.”

It tears my sisters and I apart to see Mom be in this situation. We feel helpless and resigned.

I ended up with The Neurons playing “So Far Away” by Carole King in the morning mental music stream. Her songs with her singing them came out while I was in high school. Her album, Tapestry, resonated with so many young women in my life then. The songs were being heard everywhere.

I’m a rocker and leaned toward The Who and Pink Floyd as examples of my preferences back then. Yet her songs’ sensibilities and melodies worked.

The song arrived today because sis, who took Mom in, is really feeling it and reacting now. Venting a great deal. I can do very little except lend a shoulder because I’m so far away. And as I thought about it, Mom is far away in space and memory, far away from who she was. Going ‘home’ next time will be a very different place and experience.

Let me get off my pity pot. I hope your day and relationships surpass wonderful, it’s an excellent day of peace and grace for you.

Cheers

5

Monday’s Theme Music – Addictions

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 23, 2026.

Spring has a solid hold on our stretch of valley. 59 F and sunny, we’re heading to the upper 60s today. Good weather if you’re a feline looking for a sunny place to nap…

I will do more yard work. I did all of my tasks yesterday, including pulling weeds. But the weeds have had a very successful year. If I could sell them, I’d be a thousandaire.

I had to again break off part of this post to create a Trump-centric post. I think Trump voters are addicted to hate, and Trump himself addicted to power. He’ll do anything to elevate himself. Lies, fake information, bragging are not beyond him. Nor is AI generated content showing him to be superhero strong, smart, and healthy. To those of us outside of his sphere, we see these things and shake our head, muttering, “What the fuck?” It’s amazing how many of his base can’t see the truth; it’s more amazing to see how many are willing to lie and just go along with Trump. It’s frankly sickening to see how low they’re willing to stoop to pretend things are going great with Trump in office.

Nothing new on Mom nor my health. Just awaiting developments on these fronts.

I ended up with The Neurons playing “Addicted to Love” in the morning mental music stream. It arose from thoughts that Trump is addicted to hate, and his base are addicted to him. I always enjoy the Night of the Proms series so I was pleased to find this video to present.

Hope your life finds you moving forward, healthy, happy, and safe.

Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music — Nobody Knows

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 20, 2026.

Spring has officially sprung north of the equator. It’s 56 F in Ashland with high, thin white clouds coalescing in our blue sky. 72 will the high.

Just returned from a CT scan with iodine contrast. Had blood and clots in my urine last week. Urinalysis earlier this week showed cloudy urine with high levels of blood, along with particulates associated with kidney stones. Not a surprising. I passed a kidney stone on my left side in 2021. One was found in my right side, but at 15mm, it was too large to pass. That one seems to be getting cranky, agitating the kidney around it.

Texts are arrived talking about Mom moving and contacting an attorney. Details are sketchy. My app seems to have missed several texts. A new phone is being ordered. This one is now almost ten years old.

The Trump partial government continues to cause travel congestion due to long TSA lines.

Gas and oil prices continue to rise due to Trump’s war on Iran as Trump moves more troops into the middle east. Trump’s war is also producing an increase in mortgage rates, which have reached their highest level in 2026. 2025 home sales were already the weakest in three decades.

Trump’s tariffs continue to drive up food and housing prices. Have you seen the recent price of coffee?

The national debt is going up fast, thanks to Trump’s fraud and waste.

And more rural hospitals are closing, especially in Trump strongholds in the Midwest and South, accelerating a rural hospital crisis.

— Just in from Mom’s assisted living place, Mom has put in a notice to vacate by April 17th and contacted a lawyer about elder abuse.

With these topics and uncertainty inhabiting my thinking, The Neurons are assisting by playing “What Happens Now” by Duran Duran.

Hope your change of seasons bring the best to you. Whether you’re going into spring or fall, may peace and grace find you.

Cheers

2

Thursday’s Theme Music – Waiting

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 12, 2026.

Spring is on the way in the U.S.

It shows here. We started at 34 when I rolled out of bed but with blue skies and sunshine, we’ve jumped fast to 50 F, hurtling toward the mid 60s. Best way to put it, with the daffs and tulips blooming and plum tree blossoms enriching the landscape, it’s a beautiful springish day.

Mom and my sisters are quiet, as is my house. In fact, while many things are going on in politics and world news, I feel like I’m waiting for the multiple systems to react — and maybe crash.

So I feed the cat, read the news. My wife and I think and talk as I sip coffee. All the while, I keep an eye on the headlines and digital stream and check my text and messaging systems.

Time was also spent looking at what the state has been up to. The Oregon legislative session ended. Our rep, Pam Marsh, put out a summary of the work done, a welcome reassurance that some government remains grounded, pragmatic, and functional.

Today’s music reflects that sense of waiting. The Neurons are playing “The Promised Land” by Bruce Springsteen in my morning mental music stream. I hum along with the thought of what was promised and what’s been delivered. This is not just in my life as an adult, but what was held out to us as children. Growing up in the television age, we were often sold impressions about stable, white families with Dad going to work and the children going to school and getting into minor mischief. Mom stayed home and cooked in her skirt or dress, wearing high heels as she vacuumed, did the laundry, cooked. Some shows — like “Hazel” — featured more prosperity, and a maid.

More realistic shows came along, such as “The Jeffersons” and “All in the Family”, but our beliefs were hardened by then. Yet, it didn’t often work out as television claimed it would.

Anyway, here I am, waiting.

Hope you have a great day and all that means to you. Peace and grace on you.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 11, 2026. 34 degrees F under blue skies latticed with thin, white clouds. Today’s high will climb into the fifties.

As part of a messy life stream, things continue on the Mom and news fronts.

The first new oil refinery in Texas in fifty years was announced. Trump is all over the money aspect, citing $300 billion dollars, which makes it really impressive in his mind. Two things struck me about the announcement.

Trump announced it as a “America First” thing but it’s funded by an Indian oil billionaire. Pretty good marketing hype.

Secondly, many headlines said that Trump announced the opening of a new oil refinery. Was it being opened or built? As I researched it, I couldn’t find basic answers to how long construction will take and when it will open.

I finally learned that it’s going to be built, with construction beginning later in 2026, and it’ll cost $4 billion to build. At this point, it’s a proposal. It won’t start operating until 2-3 years later. “America First” is the name of the company developing the refinery, a partnership with the Indian company, “Reliant Industries Limited”.

The hype around it reminds me of Cadillac’s Formula 1 effort. They put out a huge Super Bowl ad which including some of JFK’s speech about putting a man on the moon. They said, “The Mission Begins!” “We have liftoff!”

It annoyed me because I was struck that they acted like they on the cutting edge of something new and amazing, and not another new racing team in a series that’s been around for decades. What was more stunning was I later realized that Cadillac was using Ferrari engines for the first two years.

My sisters reminded me about a Mom fact which I never thought about. Mom always dressed nice. My older sister claims Mom had thirty pairs of high heels. But Mom often claimed poverty for us. We couldn’t afford to do things and often had to skimp. We did always have shelter and food, and Christmas presents were usually lavish. But my sisters all remember struggling to have clothes themselves.

Anyway, I responded to Mom last night as she reached out to me again. She was referencing texts which I didn’t have. I don’t know where the disconnect is. Her texts were about payments to the assisted living facility. I texted back, “What is your situation and what is your plan?”

She responded, “You finally answered. The situation is I’m in assisted living and I have a roommate so I think the pay is 4500 a month. I asked Lori yesterday what happens when I ran out of money and she said you have a house don’t you and yes but they’re not going to sell it until the spring and then I realize what she meant by they will put a lien against the house and when I die, the house is theirs if I would be here a long time which I don’t plan on being here a long time. So glad you answered me, Michael because just. because Sharon is through with me, Gina has been through with me for a long time. She had also told me that Lisa has always hated me so there’s nobody left Michael very upsetting to me that all my children hate me. But thank you for answering me tonight. See you later alligator.”

I sent that information on to my sisters so they’re aware of it.

I haven’t heard from Mom since, which isn’t surprising. In the last six months, she has a cycle of staying up late, texting into the night, and then sleeping through the day. She becomes angrier and meaner during those periods, more frantic. Then she grows lucid and nice, normal for a few days.

On to my normal day. The Neurons have placed “Schizophrenia” by Sonic Youth in the morning mental music stream. It’s an interesting song.

Sipping on some coffee, looking at the pale sky. I hope your day lives up to your best dreams for yourself.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music: Disruptions

Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, March 10, 2026.

Cloudy and 39F outside, dry with a high of 52 F projected.

This post is mostly about me and Mom. Pings erupted in the middle of the night. Mom had launched a text blitz, and the sisters were sharing and discussing them. I read many and saw it basically as the same old, same old on every front. One sister had helped Mom by picking things up at her house; another had responded, telling Mom that she’d created this living situation mess.

Meanwhile, searching for info and thinking late last night, I hunted for more about Heritage Grove, the assisted living facility where Mom now lives. I found this photo on their Facebook page. That’s Mom, the 90 year-old in the front left in pink in the ‘drive’ wheelchair. She’d won a Snickers bar at bingo.

Returning to sleep after the text barrage was a challenge. I finally slept but awoke when I thought I heard a man saying, “There’s a fire.” There was no man there and the house was silent. I rose, though, and walked through the house, trying to see if I smelled smoke or saw sparks or flames. Then back to bed, back to sleep, but ended up getting up late. Just eating breakfast now, 10:30, two hours late. Bah, humbug.

While I was awake in the night, I thought about yesterday’s news.

Trump urges Australia to give Iran’s Asian Cup players asylum

The story quoted Trump saying on Truth social, “Australia is making a terrible humanitarian mistake by allowing the Iran National Woman’s Soccer team to be forced back to Iran, where they will most likely be killed.”

Damn it, the only people he’s fooling are his unthinking supporters and the uninformed. This is the same person who has Homeland Security and ICE rounding people up and sending them anywhere he could get away with sending them, without one damn thought about whether they’d be killed. In the process of rounding up people and shipping them out, people were actually and being killed. And Trump always, always blamed the victims, labeling them as domestic terrorists, criminals, or thugs.

U.S. Deports Planeload of Iranians After Deal With Tehran, Officials Say

The NYTimes headline was from last October. Since then, the Iranian government killed thousands of people. And, were any of those people Trump flew back to Iran in 2025 killed when Trump bombed them in 2026?

It all has me shaking my head.

Which carries me into theme song territory. The Neurons came up with “Helen Wheels.” To which I responded, what?

The Paul McCartney & Wings song is about Paul’s Land Rover and driving around. How did it fit into my mind?

Well, it hinged on two salient aspects: “Ain’t nobody else gonna know the way she feels.” And yep, that’s Mom and life with Mom at this point. It’s a mystery. And the other part is the long-sigh “bye buh” I feel toward what’s happening with Mom, especially with my sisters.

The upbeat song feels like it’s driving me forward, pulling me off the night’s inertia.

I hope your day is going well, wherever you are, whatever you doing. May peace and grace nestle up against your efforts and help you move forward.

Cheers

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Mom

Mom is struggling in her assisted living situation. It’s been five to six weeks in her new place. She has professed to be happy at times. She also has related that she hates it.

She’s accused others of stealing things. She found those items in her room later.

Her habit of texting my sisters at night resumed. Two sisters ended up blocking her.

The texts were often complaints about what was going on or demands that things be taken to her.

As it was before, it seems clear that Mom is cognitively impaired. She’s been through a lot of health issues and is on many medications.

Now Mom must pay again for another month in advance shortly. She’s not sure what she’s paid or what she’s expected to pay and is asking us for help. There are some hints that she wants us to help her with the costs.

It is so painful to hear about these texts and read them.

My sisters are hugely angry with Mom and struggle to help her. They tell me that Mom becomes mean and hateful and will start yelling or just turn away from them. I can imagine how emotionally exhausting that is for them. We agreed, only one sibling can address Mom, following the advice given to us to handle the situation. Maintaining that silence is so painful.

I want to send Mom money to help her out. We’re warned not to do that because Mom will probably end up depending on Medicaid. If that transpires, Medicaid looks at her previous five years of income. Anything we’ve given her will be considered as part of that and reduce what help she’ll be given.

I do a lot of sighing when I think about Mom and her situation.

Just a short time ago, I overheard two elderly individuals talking at the coffee house, addressing the same problem that I’m dealing with. A man and woman, they both looked older than me by about ten years, putting them in their eighties. He later confirmed for her that he was 79.

The woman was talking about her sister and her sister’s problems. Her sister resides in Arizona and won’t move to Oregon, where we’re at. But each woman is alone and need help, so they’ve decided that the coffee-shop woman will be a snowbird and go live with her sister several times a year and see how it goes.

The man related that he was an only child. His parents created a trust after they retired. He could withdraw from it whenever he wanted. His father cautioned him, though, that someday they might need that money and urged him to be circumspect.

The man related that he was glad his father gave him that advice, and that he heeded it. He estimated that in the last five years of his parents’ life, he spent about $1,000,000 to provide them with housing and care.

There are lessons in all of this, I think.

I don’t know what they are.

7

Sunday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 1, 2026. It’s raining and foggy in Ashland, with temperatures tottering around 50 degrees F. Not a shred of sunshine out there, and a high of 57 is expected. Spring is muscling in.

It’s a day of questioning for me, starting with what’s going on with Mom to what’s going on in the world and the nation.

I learned yesterday that another sister — our youngest — had been going to visit Mom, taking her things, etc. The youngest has been designated as our contact with Mom because she has the best relationship of everyone living nearby. I reached out to her to see how Mom was doing.

The youngest related that when she arrived, Mom was playing bingo with five or six others at a table and apparently laughing and having fun. Mom told the youngest that she’d gone to church, which she enjoyed, and seemed pretty content and happy.

After wheeling Mom back to Mom’s room, the youngest found clothes all over Mom’s area. Mom complained she didn’t have hangers. Sis pointed out that they’re in the closet, and told her, you need to look, and helped Mom tidy.

Then, though, today, Mom asked the youngest to bring her cookies — “Anything but chocolate chip.” Oatmeal raisin cookies were brought, which made Mom mad. She then gave my sister ‘mean faces’ and quit speaking with her. The youngest rolled Mom to the dining room so she could eat, and then left.

The youngest sister also related that Mom’s roomie is 95 years old with congestive heart failure and two ‘bad shoulders’. She had a hospice aid visiting. My sister suggested that maybe we should get Mom a hospice aid. That took me back, because there’s nothing indicated to me at this point that Mom is ready for hospice.

It’s just as troubling and confusing elsewhere in the world. Trump ordered the U.S. to attack Iran, a joint operation with Israel, “Operation Epic Fury”. While Iran’s supreme leader was killed, Iran retaliated. Americans were killed and injured. More critically, is this the opening that will explode the area into another war? Trump and his advisors seem to think in terms of gunship diplomacy and regime change.

Trump — the peace president, a self-made assertion that has Orwell laughing in his grave — said that the attack was to protect Americans. “Our objective is to defend the American people by eliminating imminent threats from the Iranian regime,” Trump said in prerecorded remarks posted on White House social media accounts early Saturday morning.”

Back in 2011, Trump said President Obama would start a war with Iran. “Our president will start a war with Iran because he has absolutely no ability to negotiate. He’s weak and he’s ineffective.”

Who is weak and ineffective now, Trump?

Protests in Baghdad broke out, with “Death to Israel, death to America,” being shouted. This smacks of the 1970s and 1980s, so it sickens me that we seem to be going into another war spiral. I hope to hell that’s not true.

As I sat with that information, news arrived of a mass shooting in Austin, Texas. Next came updated information about deaths in Iran where 85 are reported killed: “The majority of the dead are schoolgirls aged between seven and 12 years old, according to the regime-controlled news outlets Tasnim and Fars.”

Senseless killing, once again. I expect anger and hatred in Iran to rise in response. This is exactly where we were before, using violence and killing to win hearts and minds. It did not work then; I don’t expect it to work now.

BTW, remember when Trump vowed no more wars when he campaigned? Guess that promise meant as much as Mexico paying for the wall and lower food and energy prices.

The song in my morning mental music stream came when I first looked out the windows, before reading any news. “Rainy Night in Georgia” came out in 1970. The Neurons put it in there when I thought, “Another rainy day in Ashland.” I didn’t remember who performed the song and looked it up to learn it was Brook Benton.

I call again for peace and grace to find its way to us, and maybe it will someday. Right now, it feels less likely than it did last week. But things will change. It’s really just question of how and why.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon – Saturday, February 28, 2026. An uninspiring flat gray tam caps the valley. We’ve reached February’s end and we’re cruising toward spring with 60 F as our high, up from the present 46. Rain is expected.

Our snowbank is at 41% of normal as they label our winter a snow drought. Fingers crossed that nature isn’t finished with the area’s snow deliveries or it’ll be a dry summer — unless that season changes and becomes wet.

Sis reports Mom has a roommate and is not happy. Her new roomie ‘poops on the toilet seat’ and then uses Mom’s wipes to clean up. Apparently, Mom had been settling in and considered herself happy until the roomie arrived.

Sis’s car was rearended yesterday. Nobody was hurt, the damage was mild, and the other driver took full responsibility. But the accident dinged sis’s mood. However, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to her as a four-year anniversary thank you, lifting her spirits again.

My wife and I both seem over our colds at last. Just mild coughing, thin and unproductive, struck this morning. My respiratory system seems clear and my breathing is well.

Looking at the news, I was pleased that the Senate again denied the SAVE Act to pass. The law was aimed to burden voters to provide identification, making it harder to vote. Trump and his allies suggest that it’s to stop voter fraud. Studies have actually shown that there is little voter fraud in national U.S. elections.

Trump and Israel ordered more strikes against Iran, killing more than 80 people. These attacks were part of a campaign to pressure Iran to stop its nuclear weapons program. That’s interesting, as Trump claimed attacks he ordered last summer obliterated Iran’s nuclear program.

Last in the news arena, the hypocrisy levels of justice hit new highs this week. Hillary Clinton testified about her ‘relationship’ with Jeffrey Epstein: don’t know him, never met him. Nor is there evidence to the contrary. Melania Trump was photographed with Epstein. Her name appears in emails, an address-book entry, and a 2002 message to Ghislaine Maxwell, along with third-party claims and materials such as photographs and third‑party claims. She has yet to be called to testify.

As usual with these shows, little concerns were expressed about the Epstein files victims.

With this as my backdrop, The Neurons dropped “Thin Lizzy” into the morning mental music stream with “Don’t Believe A Word”. Offering a nice bluesy tone, the song plays with the idea of what’s said to produce results, suggesting, that’s why what’s said can’t be trusted.

Lyrics h/t AZLyrics.com

Don’t believe me if I tell you
That I wrote this song for you
There just might be
Some other silly pretty girl
I’m singing to

Don’t believe a word
For words are so easily spoken
And your heart is just like that promise
Made to be broken

I hope you believe me when I say, I wish you have a joyous and safe, comfortable day. I raise my coffee to you and your prospects.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, February 23, 2026. Today’s sky is mottled gray streaked and splashed with blue. All the snow is gone from view. It’s 50 F. Rain is expected, along with a high of 56.

No text messages greeted me this morning. I thought, well, we’re into a consolidating/adjusting phase. Or the text message systems aren’t working, or they’re no longer using the group chat.

Turned out that options 1 and 3 are right. The sisters are doing things more one-on-one back east. Mom has gone silent, troubling our youngest sister, who has the tightest relationship with Mom, because she lived longest with her. As another pointed out, that sister was the only one who was living with Mom when they celebrated their 18th birthday. The rest of us left before then.

Moving on from family matters, I’m watching and reading stories about the east coast blizzard. Already a big storm, I hope everyone stays safe and warm.

There are other thoughts but this needs to be short because it’s our Food & Friends delivery day. Meanwhile, The Neurons have Laura Branigan singing “Self Control” in my morning mental music stream. Branigan’s 1984 hit is a cover of a song that was an international hit, something I always need to remind myself. I like the song’s mellow beat and its overall imagery about night, impulses, and not losing it. I think Les Neurons plugged it in in association with a dream, as the song started in my head after I began remembering the dream.

Lyrics

I, I live among the creatures of the night
I haven’t got the will to try and fight
Against a new tomorrow, so I guess I’ll just believe it
That tomorrow never comes
A safe night (You take my self, you take my self control)
I’m living in the forest of a dream (You take my self, you take my self control)
I know the night is not as it would seem (You take my self, you take my self control)
I must believe in something, so I’ll make myself believe it (You take my self, you take my self control)
This night will never go

Well, let’s hope peace and grace find a way to show up and make themselves felt more strongly and persistently in our daily lives. Have and do the best you can.

Cheers

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