...that we take Pop from the nursing home to the group home/assisted living
place. 7 other residents, 3 caregivers. A nice bedroom with a bathroom right
across the hall from it. A vegetable garden in the back yard. A nice setup.

And I'm reducing my molars to a fine, white powder, my jaw is clenched so
tightly in anticipation of this big change.

We dropped in on him tonight and gathered up everything except his pajamas
and traveling clothes, and told him (again) that we're taking him out of the
nursing home where he's spent the past month (while we tried to find
someplace safe, clean, decent, affordable and close to us...) and bringing
him to "...a nice place where you can rest and relax for a while. Medicare
won't pay to keep you here any longer, you see, and the doctor thinks you
need more time to recuperate and put on some more weight and get stronger.
So we found this really nice place near us."

"How long is 'a while', and why didn't the damn doctor tell *me* about
this?" he asks.

"Well, it's just until you put on a few more pounds and are healthier.
You've been pretty sick and weak, not eating and so forth, you know. This'll
be a nice place; you'll see...."

He seems to be buying it so far. We gathered up some pictures, knickknacks,
mementos, his bed pillows and a favorite recliner to put in the room
(there's a bed, night table and dresser there already) to make it a little
more familiar for him. I'm praying the transition doesn't freak us all out
too horribly.
Thanks for your suggestions that I simply finesse him and not try to be too
matter-of-fact about it.

Oh....God...
We'll see how it goes.
Wish me luck...?

JEF.