My folks’ card didn’t arrive on time for me to do the essentials, shopping and such like this Christmas, so Trenton and I got nothing the first day of Christmas. I mean it, absolutely nothing. Trenton’s mom? I have no clue what surprises she has in store for us. But here’s something important: I got the gift of freedom and a family back. Freedom came with a cost, though, and it shouldn’t have. I should not have had a doctor have to step in and say I was a sane person who could take care of herself. My grandpapa has dementia symptoms, and he will progressively get worse of course. Of course, he has to understand this, and I wonder if my fiancé’s grandmother will get worse with time, as oftentimes people do. Dementia patients don’t always have the freedom to choose, and neither do disabled people, and this is why I think the gift of freedom is so precious at this time. I’m 33 years old, no children of my own, and my man and I can’t legally marry under the terms set forth by the SSI program currently in the United States. Penalties, as we know, are not good incentives to marry, so the opposite must be done, oftentimes with couples having to scam the system because the money and resources given out are so few. It’s not enough for kids, support of children without declaring them on welfare, and so on. Trump would not like this, but a little child should not have to be removed from us because we’re blind and can’t pay every bill on time. What we need is support, freedom, and obvious options when dealing with government agencies and healthcare providers.
As a freed person, I want to assure those in bondage that you are no way alone in this fight. If you’re a healthy senior and you are even able to access this blog, congratulations. You’ve done something a guardian might like to say is inappropriate, etc. But face this, your life could go in the hands of a guardian, and you could die. Seniors in Florida face a much higher rate of unlawful guardianships than any group of people in the state. Disabled Floridians need hope, freedom, and equality and dignity like everybody else gets for being able. My parents recognized my grandpapa’s need for services and support, so he and his wife now live in Jacksonville, in an assisted living independent living place. At least the meals are made for them, they can do whatever they want, and they can have whatever shopping excursions blow their minds. That cuts down enormously on drive time, at least. My mother recognizes that these people, the ones who fed and loved and clothed her and nursed her as a child need support themselves. Her mother now needs rehabilitative services, but not a guardian to steal her assets and launder money like it’s going out of style. Money laundering is a charge you don’t want to mess with, tampering with evidence and other things could be next. But the gift of freedom is precious and rare given that a doctor was able to step in, she should not have had to do this. I could easily have won without the doctor’s help, but it had to be so such that I would not be trafficked like the other seniors and disabled Floridians who face worse consequences, and caregiver abuse is on the rise in Florida nursing homes. If my mother’s parents ended up institutionalized, I would have screamed a resounding, no. Do not do this. Caregivers will abuse them and there will be less of a chance of them coming out of that place alive if you try. Nursing homes are not for everybody, not for anyone, and should never be considered for any simple elders. We need to have more respect for my Grandpapa and Grandmama and others that might have suffered a much worse fate. Senior choice in housing is important, and I hope my parents helped them make the choice to move to Jacksonville, only because I know that you must work together with your aging parents to make sure that they get the first choice of thing they want. My mother knows, for example, that the way her father spends his golden years these days is through reading. My grandfather was, in any case, a guy who enjoyed spy novels, still does, and yet I guess there aren’t enough spy novels in the Florida talking book pile he gets every month. He’d have to download the books via Bard, but he doesn’t have the capacity as yet to read the words on his computer screen, or push the right buttons to download books. So it’s books by mail, but still I hope it’s good for him to read something whether by audio or another means. There are indeed ways to spend your golden years other than sit around in an institution and get abused by a caregiver.
I can tell you right now, I could have been in the shoes of people who are in bondage. I could have been there, done that, but I have, and don’t want to go back. My grandparents on both sides are the strongest people I know, and even my dad’s mom, my Grammy, whose Christmas cards always beat my dad’s anyway, gets the prize for being the most caring grandmother I’ll ever know. Besides my fiancé’s grandma, my dad’s mom is a very good cook and who knows? My grandmother’s cooking will become well known throughout the world if I have things my way. One day, I’ll have to be a grandmother and yes, kids will beg me to bake cookies. So, at least I cooked on Christmas Eve, and the assembled casserole looked delicious, and I’m glad some of you liked the pictures I took of it before it went bye bye. Down the hatch, and yes, I haven’t forgotten the digestive system chant. It’s kind of weird, but we learned it in school.
This Christmas, I’d like everybody to realize you have the gift of freedom, and so do I. Santa Claus took a while to bring me that much, and it wasn’t in the form of a fat man in a red suit, at least. My doctor had to step in, and still she gets appointment visits from me because she did what she had to do. Anyhow, Merry Christmas, all and to all a good New Year as well. I will be writing twenty things that happened this year, and twenty things that happened this decade.