It's Wednesday all ready?

This week has been so hectic that I can't believe it is all ready the mid point. My mom was down Monday into Tuesday a.m. She had an appointment with the local housing authority regarding an upcoming unit. I didn't go with her to the appointment. People asked me why I didn't but I was very concerned that if I was there, that Mom might feel I was pressuring her in some way. She has no issues that would preclude her having the conversations regarding housing on her own. So she went on her own and met up with me at the park where the kids were playing afterwards.

The short story is that she hated it. The room sizes are very small and she felt she could fit nothing in the unit. I thought this would be her take on things as she has a pretty spacious 2 bedroom unit where she is at the moment. I said it was always her decision, and she told me she wanted me to tell her what to do. I told her I didn't want to do that but that I was willing to be a sounding board and to offer pros and cons about the situation. It came down to a list of pros that looked something like: close to g. kids
young and active enough to form new friendships and connections
she loved the picnic area on the apt complex's grounds
lovely park across the street
she could have her cat
affordability
close to us if her health continues to deteriorate
the unit was small but was her own space, as opposed to having only a
bedroom in the noisy bedlam that is my home
pull cords in all the rooms in case of medical emergency
no stairs (she has deadly ones where she lives)

The cons looked something like this:
she'd miss the ocean
she'd miss her friends and her church
the apartment was too small and she'd die if she lived in it
she didn't know if our state would make it hard for her to maintain
her drivers license
she would have to get new doctors

I suggested that she really seemed to be saying that despite the fact that she had thought she wanted to move back to our city that she really didn't seem to still want and need that. Perhaps now that her husband had passed, the fact that she could visit when and how she wanted to was enough for now. I floated the idea of perhaps applying to a housing authority in Maine and low and behold there was a community that she would love to live in. The waiting list is only a year or 18 months which would hopefully give her time to get used to the idea of downsizing her possessions. (note to self: when I am 76 I do not want to be owned by my possessions) She called her local fire dept when she got home and got involved in a program her town offers where they check on seniors once a day. I think she has to call a special phone number before 10 each morning and if she doesn't they will check on her. I really appreciate that. My mom can be a bit dramatic and when distance is involved and one is going on the contents of a phone call or email it is hard to know if "I am in excruciating pain" really translates to "my arthritis is acting up today" or "I am depressed so things feel worse than usual" or "I should go to the ER and need someone to get me there." There have been all of both situations and thus, those of us at a distance fret sometimes.

So as things stand now, she is declining the unit in our city and waiting for a unit in Maine. I have yet to explain this to the kids who were desperately hoping that she would move down here. My eldest in particular was unusually animated about it and had promised to visit her twice a week if she would move down. We visit her monthly so they will all stay really connected, but they were hoping for more. I am actually happy with the way things seem to be shaking out. Our relationship functions most healthily with a bit of distance between us and as long as she is safe and happy, it is all good to me.