So here we are in Love Ladies. Yes, Love Ladies. Love Ladies, New Jersey. It’s a small city on Long Beach Island, the island north of Absecon island, where Atlantic City is located. Long Beach Island is The Hamptons for the Jews in Philadelphia who need a summer vacation destination. So that’s where we are. And we're here because Mom and Dad insisted that they continue to be here every weekend this summer as they have for about twenty-five years. And they'd made this decision despite their diseases, despite their unpredictable daily abilities and despite the fact that when I asked Mom who would help to care for her and Dad during the weekends, Mom had said:
“The kids will. They come down every weekend.” I cringed.
My brother and his wife just gave birth to their second child not even a month ago, and their oldest - a three year old girl - was already a handful because of her brains, curiosity and stubbornness. They simply wouldn’t be able to care for their two children and help Mom and Dad. My sister had just started her own corporation and had just begun landing clients and making money which was an incredible goal of hers. Who knew if she’d even be down the shore every weekend with her business at such a crucial juncture...?
So never mind that we’d have eight people sharing a small ranch house; never mind that Mom and Dad haven’t shared a bed for years; never mind that both of them are battling debilitating diseases; never mind that the kids would also like to have an actual getaway themselves and not be forced to spend every weekend caring for their sick parents. Never mind the god-damned, fucking obvious: if the family’s gone down to the Jersey shore during the weekends for the past twenty-five years, then fuckit: this summer wouldn't be any different. Period. No need to think about it more than that.
Which is why I interceded.
With the help of my dear and amazingly knowledgable friend, Pam, I arranged for a company called Home Instead to provide a home care worker at the shore house every morning, just as we do at Mom and Dad’s house in Philadelphia. Thank God. Thank God for my friend who made the recommendation. Thank God I had the presence of mind to do the research on the company and ask them questions to see if they could handle our situation. Thank God, the company had really capable providers to offer us. It literally made the difference between having a somewhat workable family weekend and a complete and utter disaster of the highest magnitude.
We moved into the shore house: I unpacked the car; we picked up the repaired sails for the old sailboat; I moved both of my parents into the house; we met and interviewed the Home Instead representative who came out to the house to meet with us and assess our situation; I provided them with Mom and Dad’s insurance information; I even took Mom and Dad out for an incredible dinner to celebrate that we made it, despite all of the obstacles... and even got a little drunk drinking some Chimay.
So... here we are in Love Ladies. And I can certainly use some love myself: Mom’s back on her chemotherapy pills after getting a week off and she’s in as foul a mood as I can remember since I’ve been home. Rage seems to be her default coping skill right now. Maybe that will change tomorrow but probably not.
What I do know is that, tomorrow my sister will arrive in the late afternoon, followed by my brother, his wife and their two children just before bedtime. And then, for seventy-two hours, we’ll have a full house and absolutely no privacy but plenty of baby crying.
What I do know is that the day after that, I’ll help rig up the sailboat with my brother and that, later that night, there’s going to be a full moon. And it will rise like a giant cantaloupe over the Atlantic. And I plan on being outside to watch her rise, the lovely lady that she is.
Love Ladies, indeed.
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