When my parents retired, they felt they had plenty of money to see them through to the end of their lives. BUT, they outlived their resources.

Working Beyond Normal

Since they owned a weekly newspaper, my mother and father continued to work at least part time well into their 70s. My father had sold the newspaper to someone else by then, so their services really were not needed. My father, though, continued to write his weekly column Post Scripts up into his early 90s.

The Move to Texas

By the time my daughter was 10, my father decided he’d had enough of shoveling snow, so they sold their home in rural northwest Missouri and came to a senior apartment complex in San Marcos, Texas. While the apartments were for those over the age of 50, they provided no special services or meals.

They had about $400,000 at that time, which seemed like plenty. Their rent was $1,200 per month. They felt comfortable buying new cars when they felt they wanted to. They traveled some, though they didn’t do the big world trips they had done in earlier years.

Moving to Serve Special Needs

But it became obvious that my father was beginning to suffer from dementia. And my mother began needing a walker and later a motorized wheelchair to get around. After my father suffered a stroke, they decided to move from their senior apartment complex to an assisted living facility. My mother moved there alone, while my father was in rehabilitation at a nursing home.

Costs Escalating

When my father was well enough to move to the assisted living, it was obvious that he needed to go to the locked Memory Care unit. So, at that point my mother was paying $3,500 per month for her apartment as well as $5,000 per month for Dad’s care. We thought perhaps Dad would later be well enough to join Mother in her apartment, but we quickly realized that wouldn’t be the case.

So with $8,500 per month for care, their money was going fast.

Fast Forward

Dad succumbed to the effects of Alzheimer’s in the Memory Care Unit five years ago, leaving Mother still in her apartment alone. The impact on her was tough, though she was stoic. She no longer had someone to care for. She had spent hours every day with Dad in the Memory Care unit, even on days when he thought she was his mother.

But she enjoyed the many activities the facility offered. Though her money was drawing down, she wanted to stay. I tried to entice her to live with us, but she said she wanted to be with others “like me.”

Mother’s Decline

However, a series of illnesses impacted Mom, and it became obvious she needed more help than the assisted living could offer. We made the hard decision to move her to a nursing home, luckily one where my daughter worked. She moved from her two-room apartment into a spacious single room, decorated with her curios and pictures.

Then the Money Ran Out

At $5,300 per month, it didn’t take long for Mom’s money to run out. She’s now 99 years old, in good health, but living now in a shared room on Medicaid. Some of her decor had to change due to lack of space. And she’s simply not very happy. I wouldn’t be either.

Not Very Happy

She’s a woman who used to run her household. She’s a woman who wrote for my dad’s weekly newspaper. She’s a woman who was a leader in her community. Now, she gets to choose from a limited menu, helps select what she’ll wear every day. But primarily she sits in her wheelchair, reading the daily Austin newspaper word for word and taking part in the few activities the home provides.

She prays every night for God to take her Home.

My Point

I’m nearly 73. I don’t want to end my life as my mother and father ended theirs. But what choice do we have? I’ve told my daughter I want to have a good last 10 years, then hope I go. That meant I’m stepping up my community activities. I took my husband (who has moderate dementia) on a cruise and land trip to Alaska and the Yukon last summer. I’m fixing up the house, perhaps to get it ready to sell, but mostly so that I’m happier living here.

I don’t want to spend the retirement money I have on nursing homes and assisted livings. The facilities are lovely. But they aren’t for me. And probably everyone who lives in these facilities would say the same thing.