When Ed and I got together in the 90s, I was in my 60s, widowed about 3 years and we started living together. At the office, there were general inquiries as to my plans and it came out that I cooked dinner. And they all looked at me in horror and said, “YOU’RE COOKING!!!”. And there you have the professional woman’s view toward traditional roles. All these years later, I am still cooking and the most dreaded words of the day, any day, are “what’s for dinner?” I am a good cook, have been known to make complex dishes and amaze people. I can do it but would rather it was an avocation to be indulged with when I am in the mood and a particular dish calls out to me. Mostly I would rather be doing anything else -- playing the piano, reading, writing political opinion, answering questions on Quora, that political opinion site that uses me and only pays the questioners, not the answerers. In a separate post I will showcase some of the more bizarre, and brain dead questions people are being paid to ask.
Ed and I jump started the Toyota and he drove us back to Gulf Coast Village, his first serious driving since the accident. It was his gas pedal leg that was damaged. We met up with his new client, Carmen, 72 and really sharp, and she signed some papers. Her son and his common law wife were sweet as cream to her but once she put his name on the deed of the house she had built, everything changed. She was belittled and yelled at. I think the “wife” was the influence. Nothing Carmen did was right. Then she learned her son was researching nursing homes for her. So one quiet day she slipped out of the house, visited Gulf Coast Village,and signed up for a buy-in to the independent living unit and if her money runs out, they will still care for her. If she leaves, she gets a refund. Then she packed and left. Residents noticed her sitting alone crying and learned what her son was doing so they talked to the staff, with whom Ed works. They met up in his room in the rehab unit and he got her on the phone with his guardian lawyer. She answered questions, times, money amounts, details, all without notes.
When he was finally released, I drove him straight to her bank and he got the son’s name off her accounts, got her to cancel his power of attorney, and has started a lawsuit to reclaim the house they stole from her. I wish I could see the son’s face when he realizes the jig is up. He had been telling the bank people that he had to handle everything because she was incompetent.