The Coneheads reference never gets old, but getting old happened to my parents.
I moved to Mexico for many reasons, but a big one was to help out my parents. Even though they were both in decent health, they were now in their 80s and I felt like one of us kids needed to be closer. You know, just in case something happened. By 2022 I was ready to leave Texas and ready to leave the United States. I started thinking maybe I could be the kid who lived closer. When I floated the idea by Mom and Dad, they liked the idea of getting to see me more often, but they had some… reservations. After all, they were independent adults with their own lives. They had routines, and schedules. Mom and Dad were able to drive their own car and take care of their own health. They didn’t need me hovering or telling them what to do.
I agreed, and reassured them that I was not trying to take away their independence, or, god forbid, put them in a nursing home. They might not need me now, but I still wanted to be nearby just in case.
Plan A
I originally wanted to build a small house on their property, like my sister had. But, my sister’s house was a guest house and she was an occasional visitor. The idea of me living full time right on top of them with a boyfriend and two dogs was too much for my parents. They said no. I cried. But I wouldn’t give up my dream of moving to Mexico. I resolved to buy my own land and just live near them. It would mean I’d have to build a smaller house, but so be it. I ran the numbers, and the dream was still attainable.
Plan B
I found some land, and I paid for it with my own money. Dad, a naturalized Mexican citizen, let me put the land in his name so we wouldn’t have to put it in trust. Mom assisted with moving the money and later became the construction supervisor while I was still in Texas. I couldn’t have gotten my house built without them, and for that I am still grateful. In hindsight, it was better this way– my new house was close to my parents, but not too close. Mom and Dad could still have their autonomy, but if they needed help I was only a 5-minute drive away.
Their health wasn’t exactly perfect. Dad was starting to forget things, and he would ask the same question a million times. He was anxious about keeping everything straight and not being seen as a dummy. Mom was still sharp as a tack, but she had a heart attack scare in 2019, and was now having to watch her blood pressure and cholesterol. They both took various pills. Dad said, “I don’t remember what I’m taking all these for,” but Mom knew and his doctor knew. And when he said stuff like that I could see Mom biting her tongue, and I realized that Mom sometimes needed a break from taking care of Dad’s brain.
New Routines
For the first year, we developed new routines. On Saturday mornings, I’d meet my Dad at his favorite coffee shop (shout out to the Nakawe staff who has been absolutely wonderful to him). He’d get a combo Tony (black coffee with cream and sugar, and a chocolate chip cookie), and I’d get a chai latte with coconut milk. We’d sit at his favorite table, update each other on our lives, and I’d check his Amazon purchases to make sure he wasn’t buying silly stuff (He once bought the same digital clock four times). After coffee, sometimes he’d have to run errands, like pay a phone bill or get cash from the ATM. I’d go with him because he wanted assurance that he wasn’t forgetting something and messing things up.
On Sundays, I’d go to the house after lunch and spend the afternoon with Mom and Dad. Sometimes Mom had a list of stuff she needed help with, like technical assistance with email or navigating her Amazon account. Sometimes we cooked, or I’d help her in her garden. Most of the time we’d hang out on the couch and watch Jeopardy, or show each other silly memes on social media. We liked these routines, and still do.
Off-Routine
This year, our routines had a few interruptions. One morning, I was up early working and I got a text from Mom that simply said “Help.” I immediately called but all I could understand was she’d been up all night throwing up. I rushed over, called Dad to unlock the gate, and we ran upstairs to Mom’s bedroom. Mom was pale, drenched in sweat, and could hardly move because her stomach hurt so bad. She needed a hospital asap, and she resisted at first but I finally convinced her to come with me. Dad followed us into my car and the three of us drove (quickly but carefully around the pot holes) to the closest hospital in Punta Mita. Long story short, she had severe pancreatitis and had to stay in the hospital for ten days until she was stable enough to come home.
We figured out the reason it happened was because Mom’s knee had really been bothering her, so she was taking her pain meds. Unfortunately, the pain meds were masking her issues with her pancreas, so she didn’t realize there was a problem until it was almost too late.
What’s Different Now
After that incident, a few things changed. One, I got an extra key for the gate. Two, I made sure to have copies of all my parents’ IDs and ID numbers in my phone. We learned the hard way that the hospital needs that information. In our rush to get there we left all Mom’s documents at home. Three, I packed a small “bug-out bag” in case I get any more middle of the night phone calls. If I have to hang out for hours in a hospital it would be nice to be able to brush my teeth and change my socks.
The biggest change was that both Mom and Dad told me how glad they were that I was in Mexico. My dad has told me many times that he didn’t know what they would have done if I weren’t there. My mom told me her opinion of having me here had definitely changed, which is the closest I’ll get to an apology. And that’s fine, I don’t need an apology and am not looking for one. I don’t need recognition for what I’m doing. This is just what you do for your loved ones. I just think it’s funny how things have done a 180 over the last three years.
My Sister Helps Out
Last week, my mom finally got the knee replacement surgery she’d been putting off for years. My sister flew down from Alaska to help out. It was great to tag team with her, but tomorrow she goes home and I’ll be the primary caregiver again. I’m not worried. Mom is really recovering well after only a week, so I’ll probably just drop in once a day and make sure she and Dad have everything they need.
We are all very happy and hopeful with this event because Mom was in pain for a long time and it was affecting her relationships with everyone. Now, she says it feels like a great weight has been lifted. She’s barely started PT and is facing weeks of recovery, but we already see that she’s smiling more. She has a more positive outlook than she has in a long time. This has made all the other stuff worth it. She still worries about being a burden, but she forgets what a pain in the ass I was growing up. I am quite happy to do the driving and companionship and technical assistance and whatever else she and Dad might need. If the little things I do can improve their quality of life and make them happy, I am here for it. Love you Mom and Dad!
Next posts:
07/20/25 How to Have an Outdoor Summer Birthday Party and Not Die
08/03/25 Banishing Off-Grid Imposter Syndrome
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