I recently made a home visit on Mr. D., a 92 year-old retired car dealer, who is also a WWII Veteran.
I was meeting him for the first time.
In the war he participated in the 1st wave of C-47's that brought the wounded from Omaha beach to the inland hospitals.
He lives alone since his wife of 71 years (his high-school sweetheart) has severe Alzheimer's dementia and has been residing in a Nursing Home for the last year.
He visits her as frequently as possible.
His home was somewhat cluttered but was full of framed and unframed family pictures.
Mr. D.'s health, physically and cognitively, is failing.
He wishes to remain home for as long as possible (he would prefer to stay at his home until his death).
He has all the help that he agrees to accept (and pay for).
I don't know him well and like most families, I'm sure there are many unique family issues/dynamics below the surface.
It was great to spend time with him.
On the drive home, however, I couldn't stop thinking about the song "You don't bring me flowers, anymore."
It would be awesome if, somehow, one of his family members (4 children and 9 grandchildren) could live with him, at his home, during whatever time he has left.