A whole life – when parents and grandparents grow old

When I first had the idea of cooperating with a company that makes rollators, I had titles in my head like: "My Grandma Rides a Rollator in a Chicken Coop", "Rolling Grandma" or "Roll On Grandma". Something silly just, something that lightens the theme and at the same time shows how different the rollator from byAcre from the others. It's light, looks like a Ferrari and it really is: my grandma is constantly asked about her hot sled. If she hasn't already forgotten by the time she gets home, she'll tell me too. The rollator is so fancy that it works for younger people too, and especially for those who e.g. by an accident on such an auxiliary means depended.

But then a few weeks ago I paid a kind of surprise visit to my grandmother and my father – who both live in Nuremberg. Because my grandma called about a tax bill, which she did not read or understand. And because I wanted to come over for a few photos anyway because of the rollator of byAcre. And after that I lost the fun title. I have the four most intensive weeks behind me that I could imagine, because sometimes everything comes worse than you want to imagine.

My grandma rolls and rolls

My grandma is 88. My grandmother is the daughter of a horse breeder and grew up with her parents and a sister in Losan. Losan today belongs to the Czech Republic and my grandmother had to leave behind her belongings with her family in 1946. There she was 14. My grandmother has a lot to tell about the expulsion (excuse "resettlement") and life before, during the war. That she saw Dresden burning. That her father was almost shot in front of her because he wanted to say goodbye to the horses. That in the last year of the war she had to bring in the harvest herself because there was no one left and that her father poured wax into her shoes for the most valuable pieces of jewelry.

She ended up with her family in the East, which at that time was not really the East but the Russian occupation zone, and at 16 she fled alone through the woods across the border to relatives in Bavaria. There was no GDR yet, but she was still not allowed to leave the occupation zone. Her older sister came later – she was later considered a refugee from the Republic and her parents had to officially break off contact with her.

My grandmother worked as a nanny until she met and fell in love with my grandfather and then lived for many years under one roof with her parents-in-law. Actually crass – one could not imagine today so rightly. And I also know from my grandmother that she was sometimes pushed to her limits. But in those days you just didn't leave or kick your parents out of the house. One pinched the ass cheeks together and pulled through. More than 50 years she was together with my grandpa until he died.

My grandma pinches her butt cheeks together and pulls through

And what can I say: the pinched ass cheeks have stayed that way. Until today. For my grandma still has no deserved retirement to enjoy with her rollator, no, my grandma cares for a nursing case. My father.

He had an accident four years ago and since then he literally can't get back on his feet. That's what my grandma is trying to catch. For four years. So pretty much undetected by the environment, because she can disguise very well.

Nevertheless: she is on the road a lot and very happy with the lightest rollator in the world made of carbon byAcre, because with it she can easily get on and off the bus – at 88 she decided to give up her car… And because of the eye-catching vehicle in red, there are actually several people who look after her a little bit and then also help her when it is necessary. Simply because the shape and color are very striking. You always have to see the best in bad situations – my grandmother is the queen of that!

The end is open

In the meantime I have applied for a care level for both (my grandma and my father). My grandmother has lost so much weight in the last six months alone that she asks five times during a five-minute phone call if we are all doing well. She told me how tired she was, but that there was no other way. Neither of the two was able to cope with everyday life alone. Mail was not opened or not understood or ignored, things not done, well – ostrich principle just.

All in all: the situation is very toxic and until recently my grandma did what she always did: Ass cheeks clenched and pulled through and in no way ask for help.

When I got into the situation, I first put out fires and imploded. And now I try to squeeze my butt cheeks together at least organizationally for my grandma. I take care of the rest, hoping to get the two of them away from each other as soon as possible – because that's what they both kind of want, but the mills sometimes grind quite slowly and there is also headwind from grandma and dad, because both of them somehow don't quite remember what they tell whom and when. So I have to make it up myself somehow.

There are suddenly things like health care proxies, living wills, insurances, care services and other things you don't want to think about when you are "so young". And from today's point of view, I can only advise you all: do it when you are young and in your right mind. Because otherwise it will be very, very difficult and exhausting (which day is today?). Better now than later, because then the chances are good that later you just roll to Rewe and back with your rollator made of feather-light carbon and know: I have already done everything, except milk!

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