Is this what’s in store?

It’s inevitable that when you get to a certain age, deep into retirement and even in danger of emerging the other side, we contemplate, with some trepidation, what you might call the final countdown, and that you start to wonder who will take care of me /us (if we’re lucky enough to have a partner) in my / our dotage?

I’ve always admired those cultures and I think there are many, who seem to accommodate, even value for their wisdom, those elderly members of the family under the same roof, a part of an extended family, Navaho, Spanish even Irish and several more*.

So I’ve admired it as an idea but not really thought this was likely to happen to us. More like the kids will say, you’re a boring old bastard, get in that care home and we’ll throw away the key. Harsh? Probably a bit. After all my mother requested that we not put her in a care home and we didn’t although she did die in hospital but to be fair, she was 94 at the time of her departure.

Anyway I wasn’t sure that the ‘what goes around, comes around’ theory really applies here but let’s just say I’m not optimistic about being looked after by our kids even those close at hand and not in the Southern hemisphere. But then last Sunday night the ‘close-at-hand’ ones came round for a meal and knock me down with a feather the conversation turned to this very topic. Not for the first time I must admit but never before in this form.

They had seen a small hotel for sale in Malham (a small North Yorkshire tourist town). The photo above may or may not be said hotel. Apparently this hotel has six bedrooms and Mrs Summerhouse, myself and our son-in-law’s parents have been assigned two of them. Now call me narrow-minded but I can’t see this as a selling point. Imagine guests checking in to be told this is your room but avoid numbers x and y, we’ve got four old people locked up in there but they won’t bother you if you don’t make too much noise.

And that’s not all. The four parents have all been assigned roles. Father-in-law, i.e son-in-law’s father, will be odd job man. Yes, that will work. Mrs Summerhouse will be well-being coordinator (yoga and art). Again that should be OK. But then we come to the tricky part, myself and mother-in-law (son-in-law’s mother), get to take it in turns to be Basil Fawlty behind the bar. Hmm, I don’t know what she thinks but, speaking for myself, I’m not sure people are going to pay money to be told bugger off we don’t do cocktails. Where do you think this is, Paris (or similar)?

Anyway, practicality apart, it’s nice that they want to look after us all, but a small hotel in the middle of nowhere. The Shining comes to mind, now there’s a part I could play. You know, ’here’s Johnny’ with me playing Johnny. Axe optional. It’s something to think about on the long winter evenings to come.

*To be honest I like the idea of extended families but without the children or the old folk. You know, come to think of it, maybe a nice care home would suit me better. Not sure about Mrs Summerhouse although being the sociable soul she is, I’m sure she’d get on fine. But nobody ever called me sociable.

PS. Those of you who usually access this blog through Facebook don’t be surprised if this option is no longer available. Facebook are threatening to ban me for crimes unknown (and which seem to change). Frankly I don’t care if they do ban me although I would miss Forest Old Boys and Disused Stations. Hey ho.