When the inevitable came, when it came time to do what so many will face someday, Blondine Mosley called her closest living relative.
“Are you sure, Big Momma?” asked her grandson, who has cerebral palsy, is married and lives in Athens.
“Honey, it’s time,” answered Mosley, a Gwinnett County native and, at 86, the oldest living member of Snellville Baptist Church.
She and I first spoke in 2008. Mosley expressed reservations about possibly having to move out of her ranch home, rein in her independence and, begrudgingly, accept life in an assisted-living facility.
She told me she dreaded “moving day,” that she hoped and prayed it kept its distance. That it didn’t become a Post-it note on the kitchen calendar anytime soon.
Her health was subpar even back then. She used a motorized wheelchair and hand controls to drive to the grocery store, salon and church. Limited, yes, but still in command.
In recent years, though, her health worsened so she made the call, not just the physical one to her grandson, but a mental one, too. One that dictated how, and where, she’d spend her twilight years.
With the help of her attorney, she found Royal Southern Plantation, an assisted-living facility eight miles from her home.
Church friends moved her belongings in and wouldn’t let her step foot inside till they’d dressed it up, arranged family photos.
“I have not been homesick,” Mosley told me. “I have a nice little apartment. I made up my mind before I came here that I was going to make myself happy, make new friends, and I have done it. And I am the only one here still driving.”
This senior citizen is one of the fortunate ones. Just this Wednesday, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution ran a story about retirees who’d hoped to sell their homes, cash in and move to a place like Royal Southern or some coastal haven.
For many, those dreams have been deferred, held hostage to resilient stock market, labor and housing woes. Seniors, unable to sell, have had to put plans on hold. Stuck.
Mosley, though, didn’t have to fret over any of that. She didn’t have to sell and, in fact, has used her house to help someone in need.
A church acquaintance decided to become a missionary, so she sold her possessions, house included, and settled in Kenya.
Something went awry on the assignment, though, and she returned to Gwinnett County with no permanent place to live.
“I called the mission man at the church and she brought her clothes in the next week,” Mosley told me. “She is using everything, pays the utilities and keeps the yard up. My house is spotless.”
As our conversation ended, Mosley asked me to pass on a message, one that might resonate with you today, or years from now, when the inevitable comes.
“There can be happiness in assisted living,” she said. “Put in your mind you can make it.”
You will.
Rick Badie, an Opinion columnist, is based in Gwinnett. Reach him at rbadie@ajc.com or 770-263-3875.
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