If I relocate my elderly father to Israel, where will he live? What will he do all day? Which kupat cholim (health fund) service would be the best for him? And how would this decision impact my own life?
These were just some of the considerations I faced when deciding to bring Poppy to our home in Jerusalem some 20 years ago. A World War II veteran who had liberated the Dachau concentration camp during his US army service, he was 86, struggling with diabetes, cancer, and dementia.
Clearly, he was unable to take care of himself. My husband and I decided that it would be best to care for him in our home.
I was inspired by my in-laws, who, years before, had moved my husband’s grandmother, then in her 90s and unable to live independently, into their New York City apartment, caring for “Omi” until she passed away at age 101. At the time, my in-laws themselves were in their 70s and 80s. If they could do it, somehow I, then in my middle-aged years, could as well.
There were many bureaucratic hurdles to overcome. Dad didn’t have his birth certificate, a necessary document to process his aliyah application. So, my husband and I brought him to the Board of Records in NYC to retrieve a copy. The line was enormous. I told him to stay in the line while we filled out the forms.
Then I turned around and saw him off the line, sitting on a chair. As I went over to him, the guard approached me and said: “We took him off the line. We don’t let the elderly stand. He’ll go to the head of the line when you’ve finished the paperwork.”
When we got all of Dad’s documents in order and were finally at the El Al terminal heading to Israel, the security official looked at my father and asked: “Philip, why are you going to Israel?” “I’m making aliyah,” Poppy responded proudly, to which the official smiled and said, “What took you so long?”
There were many initial challenges, such as an immediate practical one – whether Dad could climb the 35 stairs leading to our front door. Like a trooper, he did each step slowly. It was only a month before he passed away, when the cancer ravaged his bones, that it was clear we had to find another accommodation for him.
Plethora of decisions
Upon our arrival in Israel, we had to make a plethora of decisions and inquiries. Foremost was deciding on a healthcare plan for him. Easy enough, but finding a physician in our area who would take him as his patient was another matter. Clearly, most general practitioners don’t relish taking on the demanding needs of an octogenarian.
Another overwhelming concern was: What would Dad do all day? Here, Melabev, which provides community care for people living with dementia and Alzheimer’s, was a lifesaver. He joined the English group and instantly charmed all the participants. Always someone who loved to sing, he often brought the group to tears with his soulful voice.
In between Dad’s days at Melabev, there were endless doctors’ appointments, tests, and follow-up phone calls. It became clear that my husband and I needed extra help, and eventually Archie, his Filipino caregiver, came to live with us. Another godsend, especially as the cancer progressed.
Throughout the year that Poppy lived with us, I put all work commitments on hold. It was a privilege to take care of him, though I needed to take care of myself as well.
There are inimitable incidents with Dad that are forever etched into my memory. Concerned about his diabetes, we were scrupulous to keep sweets away from him. So, when someone brought a chocolate dessert to us for Shabbat, I asked our friend sitting next to Dad to cut a small edge off for him.
As our friend carefully cut the dessert, Dad leaned over and took a full slice of the chocolate, impishly winking as everyone around the table burst into laughter.
An informal guide
After Dad passed away, I collected all the information I had accumulated and spent a month writing Informal Guide to Bringing Your Elderly Parent to Israel. It includes aliyah procedures; assistance from Bituach Leumi (National Insurance Institute); agencies that help in the transition; medical coverage; options where your parent can live; Yad Sarah services; social frameworks; legal considerations; and end-of-life procedures – to name a few of the categories.
The guide can be accessed on the Nefesh B’Nefesh website at: www.nbn.org.il/uncategorized/informal-guide-to-bringing-your-elderly-parents-to-israel. Please note that some of the information may be out of date.
I cherish that year with Dad in Jerusalem, and I always send a loving wave to him as we pass the Har Hamenuhot Cemetery, where he watches over us.