The journey toward caring for my parents-in-law has been meticulously planned out for many years. It's been in our hearts to care for them since about ten years ago when Mario and I began talking about the possibility of his parents needing assisted care. Back then they were 77 and 82 years old and still living on a 3 acre property in Southern California. Since then, they sold their beloved estate of 30 years and moved into an active adult apartment complex. Not until last year did Maria and Mario begin talking about the need for extra care. We offered to open our home to them and they accepted. That's it in a nutshell. Of course, there were a lot of small details that had to be worked out, but as of three days ago, we are all together living under one roof. Hubby Mario Jr. (Mod for short....pronounce Mario correctly and you get "M O D I O" or MOD for short) suggested that I start a blog about this new adventure. I was convinced it would be fun after the crazy adventure my daughter Maddi and I had in the airport just getting "Nonna and Nonno" (Italian for grandma and grandpa) to Northern California. Here's the short version of that story:

Saturday morning, July 3. Our 17 year wedding anniversary. Maddi and I arrive at the airport with Nonna and Nonno with plenty of time to leisurely check in, find wheelchair assistance, go through security, eat a snack, and use the restroom before pre-boarding the plane. All goes well. I'm very pleased with myself, having navigated all of us to Gate 2 with no glitches, when my phone rings. It's my mom, who chauffeured us to the airport. "You forgot Maria and Mario's carry-on bags in my trunk. I'm driving back right now and will meet you outside." Maddi and I shuffle our way back outside, grab their grey circa 1960's TWA bags and two Costco loaves of
pecorino romano cheese in a plastic grocery bag (Italians love their cheese), kiss my mom goodbye and run for the security line. Twenty minutes to pre-board! A security officer assures me we will make it through the line with time to spare. She was right. But there was one problem. I didn't preview the bags and had no idea what they contained. As soon as they were on the x-ray belt I became suspect number one. "Please step this way, ma'am. I'm going to have to screen these bags." Airport rule #13: never say, "No, these aren't my bags.....sort of.....I mean......I'm bringing them in for someone else. I have no idea what's in them". This only causes more raised eyebrows and deeper searching. Poor Maddi was so stressed out at this point she began to cry. I think that made us look more suspicious. 5 minutes to pre-board. I was sweating and laughing nervously as Mr. Security Man pulled out one pair of sharp scissors, then another, bigger pair of scissors, then a third, even bigger pair of scissors. After that came the giant sized toothpaste tube, knitting needles, more jumbo cream tubes and a large plastic water bottle. Next TWA bag: more cream tubes and the piece de resistance........two pocket knives. I just about fell over. My nervous laughter was intertwined with very quick prayers "Please Lord, make it stop." I explained my situation to Mr. Security Man as best I could, who, after trashing most of the items and rescanning both bags, gave me the "all clear". Maddi and I ran to the gate with one minute to spare. Of course, we both showed up looking completely unscathed, happy, calm and ready to board the plane. We promised not to mention anything to either grandparent, besides a polite, "Sorry they had to take a few of your items out." Let's keep it that way.