Try as I might, I could not squelch the urge of my parents to visit their town home.  So far, there has been no call from the neighbors that they showed up with no money and could not pay the cab (or worse).  Some calls come in a few days after the events. I’m thankful the neighbors call to let us know what they are witnessing.

I am more worried than any other emotion. Will I get a call from the police that they broke into their own home again? Will someone take advantage of my parents confused states? Will one of them walk out and get lost?

Not being able to pay the cab is one of the milder stories I’m ready to share. However, somehow I seem to now feel the  embarrassment my parents no longer feel over these episodes.

Tonight the only call I got was from my mother. She was frustrated she couldn’t find her check book. I told her that she had the right checkbook in her wallet on Tuesday when I saw them at the retirement community.

“I want the checkbook in the maroon case, where is that?”

I’ve had this conversation so many times. I no longer feel angry or frustrated. I tell her it’s the one that was lost last month and quickly change the subject to ask what they had for dinner. We close on a positive note. Grasped.