You Must Tell Each Of Them

Dear Ann Landers: My husband has been diagnosed as having senior dementia. Two years ago, I had to leave a job I enjoyed to stay home and care for him. My problem is that I can’t get out of the house and I feel myself stagnating.

I have tried in subtle ways to tell my five children that I need a break to go shopping, visit the library, see a movie or just take a drive. I don’t expect them to take care of their father for any length of time, I just want them to take him out once in a while and leave me some time alone. They could take him out for coffee, to the hardware store or just for a ride - anything to make him feel alive and part of the world. His physical condition is fairly good, and he can still enjoy these things.

I tried to get my husband interested in the senior center, which is quite nice, but he refused to stay there without me. Lately, I’ve become impatient with him, and I’m ashamed of myself. If each of my children would take their father out just one day a month, it would help me enormously.

Ann, I love my husband, and there is no way I would put him in a nursing home. He has been my lover, my best friend and my help-mate for 50 years. I will not desert him no matter what, but a breather once in a while would be a godsend. Maybe if my children see this letter in your column, they will take the hint. - Loretta in Michigan

Dear Loretta: You say your husband was diagnosed two years ago and now you are hoping your children will see your letter in my column and “take the hint.” For Lord’s sake, Loretta, why have you not been totally frank with your children and told them you need help?

Don’t wait for them to see your letter in the paper. Phone each one today and tell them exactly what you have told me. I’ll bet you have underestimated them and they will come through for you.

Dear Ann Landers: Recently, you praised the Postal Service for doing such a wonderful job. Well, Ann, you must be getting a lot better service in Chicago than we are getting in Virginia.

Normally, it takes five to 21 days for mail to go 200 miles to Pennsylvania. It takes five days or more for a letter to go 75 miles to my sister. It took a week for a birthday card to get to my next-door neighbor, and we live two miles from the post office. Last week, a piece of priority mail took five days to go 300 miles.

At best, our service can be described as lousy. It seems that whenever the cost of postage goes up, the quality of service goes down. Instead of staggering lunch hours, our post office closes for an hour and a half at noon. When I complain, I am told that our mail gets hung up in the D.C. area and it can’t be helped. We deserve better. If you print this letter, we may get some attention. - Disgusted in Central Va.

Dear Central Va.: You can be sure that Marvin Runyon, the postmaster general, will receive several copies of this column. I believe in the old adage - “the squeaky wheel gets the oil.” The mail delivery in Chicago improved a lot after a few bags of mail were discovered in a postman’s closet at home and another bundle was dredged up from Lake Michigan. It pays to complain. I did, and the service improved fast.

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