When my parents retired at 70, they both knew immediately where they wanted to go.
With its year-round temperatures of 80 to 90 degrees, peaceful blue waters and a welcoming and lively culture the seaside city of Barranquilla, Colombia, called to them. After all, my Colombian father would be going back to his homeland, and my Cuban mother relished in the Latin culture that seemed so fragmented in the U.S.
They sold their home of more than 40 years in Houston and purchased a two-story condo with a partial ocean view for $135,000 USD. Their social security and retirement money went a long way in Barranquilla, where the average cost of living is much lower than it is in the US.
The move was great, until it wasn’t
In the beginning, their retirement life was idyllic. They enjoyed afternoon coffee with friends at sidewalk cafes, they walked along the beach every morning and they would attend parties in their condo development with fellow retirees.
But one day, while they were visiting my family in Texas, my mother stopped and stared at my younger son splashing away in the pool. “Who’s that little boy?” she asked. I stared at her face, as she scrutinized my son, with his dark curls and almond brown eyes that looked like mine. “Ma, that’s your grandson,” I said.
That’s when I knew something was terribly wrong. On another visit, my father would wander in the kitchen aimlessly, looking for the cabinet where we kept our water glasses, despite the fact that he had no problem finding them a year ago.
A trip to the neurologist confirmed what I had already suspected. They both had Alzheimer’s disease.
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We needed to make a plan
While the diagnosis for both of them was still early-stage, I knew what the future held. My grandmother (my mother’s mother) and my mother’s brother both had Alzheimer’s. Worst yet, my father seemed to be progressing at an alarmingly rapid rate. Unfortunately, retiring on the Colombian coast would be a dream unfulfilled.
They decided to move back to Houston to be closer to family and their doctors. They agreed to sell their condo and move in with us temporarily until we could find a suitable assisted living apartment. But it’s been tricky. Some days, they would say they were moving back to Barranquilla permanently. It was a constant flip-flop, but my husband and I made an executive decision to keep them in Houston.
They’ve been living with us since February. In that time, I’ve had to reset all their passwords because they couldn’t remember them. I spend every morning scrambling to the kitchen to make sure I’m there to give them their medication, a routine they consistently forget.
The biggest challenge, though, has been navigating foreign laws. One thing I did early on was get a power of attorney and medical power of attorney. While those two documents have been incredibly helpful in the states, I’m not entirely sure the legal weight these documents may carry in Colombia. I’m currently looking for a lawyer and a real estate agent abroad who can help me with the sale of their condo. Once that’s taken care of, I then have to sell all the stuff they’ve amassed in the 15 years they’ve lived there.
I’m planning for my own future, too
Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned in all of this is to be prepared. I plan to sign up for long-term care insurance so my children won’t have to stress over how they plan to pay for my care in the same way I have had to with my parents. I’ve been taking steps to improve my health and I’m also financially prepared for the inevitable — when my parents pass away. Right now, though, I’m going to relish the time I still have with them, here, close to my family.
