FAMILY AFFAIRS.

• Author: Lueders, Bill
• Position: EDITOR'S NOTE

In mid-October, I flew to Oakland, California, to meet my grandson, Felix Kyle Lueders-Morrison. He was born on October 6 at a hospital in Berkeley, to my son Jesse and daughter-in-law Lauren. He was, in my arms, "this seven-pound universe, full of all possibility," to quote the late songsmith Marques Bovre.

When Jesse was born thirty-five years ago, I wrote about my fear for his future. The wars, the bombs, the lies. Of course I fear for my grandson, too, and have plenty of reasons to do so. But I also have reasons to be optimistic. Look at how much better the world is because it has Jesse and Lauren in it!

Meanwhile, a different drama has been playing out here in Wisconsin regarding my mom, Elaine, who is ninety-seven. In late October, just hours before she was to be discharged from a short stay at a physical rehabilitation center, the Milwaukee-area senior living facility where she has lived since 2011 informed my sister, Diane, that our mother would not be allowed back because her needs had gotten too great.

Wisconsin law generally requires senior living facilities to give a written notice at least thirty days in advance before they can boot people from their homes. But my moms facility claims it didn't have to do this because her condition was so dire; we think they're dramatically overstating this to provide cover for the facility's failure to follow the law.

The rehab center let out mom stay until she could find another home, then went into a COVID-19 lockdown. Diane, who tries to visit every day, now had to wave at her through glass. I used to talk to her every day, then could not for a month. Diane did reach her briefly by phone. "I need you," Mom said.

I lodged desperate appeals with state health officials, asking them to intervene, but they did not do so in time. We scrambled to find Mom a new place to live. On November 17, the day this issue went to press, we were set to move her into a different senior care facility--away from her friends and all that's familiar. It's a transition we fear might kill her. When we told this to one of the people kicking her out, the person replied, matter-of-factly, "I know."

Diane, my brother, Rick, and I, along with all of the many other people who know and love...