Good for mom...and good for me.

In her later years, my mom lived 300 miles away. But Jeanne and I would get down to see her about every 4 to 6 weeks. For several years, she lived in an assisted living facility. A refurbished old hotel. Called the Blackhawk. Very nicely done. Stately place. With very high old-fashioned metal ceilings. It was on Main Street in a town called Fort Atkinson. Not far from where I grew up. Before mom moved into assisted living, she rented half a duplex. A very nice place. And mom had everything nice and orderly. Picture perfect. And oh, so clean. She was a cleaner. Washed windows every week. Pulled out the stove and refrigerator to clean behind it. Everything just immaculate. She liked to live in high-style. When she had to live in assisted living, it devastated her for a while. After my step-father died, mom sold the house that was on the Rock River and she decided to move close to me. To a town called Scandia, 10 miles from Forest Lake. And she lived in a small rental unit for a couple years. But it was a mistake for her to come to Minnesota. She missed her friends. And eventually, she moved back to Ft. Atkinson. But when she got into her 80s, most of her friends had died. And that became kind of sad for mom. But mom had a good life overall. We all have our ups and downs. But mom had far more ups than downs. Just like me, her son. In later years, I really got her to open up. About things in her life that she had never told anyone. Some sad things. But I think it was good for mom to get it all out. I always thought she was too reserved. Didn't really open up fully. Not even to her husbands. But I got a lot out of her. That was good for mom...and good for me. --Jim Broede