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My inlaws had their retirement all worked out by moving down in their middle age from the north USA to Florida where companies compete for all the retirees looking for a warm place to be and a continuum of care services. Inlaws wanted their independence and not to be a burden on their two sons. We lived in California and my husband's brother raised his family in Florida at a nearby subdivision. Son number two looked after his parents, and his wife, who was an occupational therapist and familiar with institutional procedures would advocate for their care whenever they needed hospitalization. However, a little after my mother law died, my brotherinlaw's wife's family circumstances changed and they left to live in another state. We were both in the middle of our careers and it would not be easy to simply drop whatever job was at hand and fly out and back. None of us were comfortable about there being so much distance in between and no immediate family around, so we invited him to come live with us since it was really my husband's turn. Fatherinlaw was 90 years old but gave our proposal serious consideration, agreed, and we all worked to get him out here safely.My fatherinlaw was still ambulatory. Somehow I found out that the state would provide a social worker to perform a free home assessment for safety and accessibility. We learned all kinds of things, like how pets can be a real hazard because the person is not as agile as before and likely to fall when the pet is underfoot. We all talked about the adjustments each of us were making, saw where his advanced health care directive was kept, etc.He made it very clear that he didn't want to be a bother; he was happy he could contribute to the rent we paid as it seemed to him only fair and while we were doing well our own, we were not well off; plus I was providing a share for my own elderly parents care from a distance at the same time, and helping out siblings whose kids had disabilities.One of the biggest concerns we were all wary about was dinner. He'd make his own breakfast and lunch during the day, say a sandwich and some soup, and we'd come home after work and make dinner. Trouble was that we had been eating organic, vegetarian for decades although I would eat flesh sometimes when we went out, while fatherinlaw had always thought we were foolish (despite a quadruple bypass discovered on the operating table). We did our best to provide some meat based meals, but it wasn't cordon bleu, and he was a guy who liked to dine at least once a week, with cloth napkins nicely laid. So, while he could still get around easily, we would religiously select a nice restaurant since we knew where to go, dress nicely a bit, and share in his treat, as it was nice for him to have company, we all appreciated well prepared food in a nice ambience, and none of us had to clean up afterwards.Then came the time when he had to use a walker and a breathing apparatus at the same time. He still felt good if a little frail, and wasn't fazed by people's stares. We didn't think anything of it either as we were used to seeing him as an old person needing just a little help. His voice wasn't weak, his mind was completely clear, he commanded the space and even us. When I look back now, it must have been a shock for people to see this white haired, slightly bent old man shuffling his way through the tables all geared up like that, sometimes pointedly excusing himself. Everyone else around us was in the prime of life or handsomely retired, still in prime and saluting life with glasses of wine held high and large portions on plates. He couldn't eat as much as he used to but he still enjoyed the experience — until it became clear to all of us that it was just too costly of an effort for him to get out of the car and along even a short walkway to get to a table.So now, mealtimes became desperate times, so to speak, as there was no more break to look forward to for any of us. My fatherinlaw at last asked for a family meeting. We sat around the kitchen table. He could tell we were trying, and he was trying too, but it just wasn't working. There was a long silence. Then, to what I knew would be my husband's great horror, I nevertheless offered my father in law a sincere suggestion that perhaps he might like some frozen dinners. Sure enough, husband sat speechless with dismay and looked daggers across at me.I was thinking of a home delivery service I had seen arrive at the house of one of my business clients while I was there - the client had ordered whatever she liked from a catalog of prepared frozen meals and paid some kind of subscription rate. I didn't even get a chance to explain myself because without missing a beat, my fatherin law suddenly exclaimed, "That's a great idea!!"Fatherinlaw became very excited, and began plotting out how we could bring home a few brands and dishes to try over the next couple of weeks, and then develop a rotation of the preferred meals to provide some ongoing variety during the week. He talked about the types of meat he liked and cooking styles, maybe pasta with meat sauce one time, and roast turkey another and so on. We could all still have salad to share, and he still wanted to send us out once a week to go to a restaurant even without him because his inability shouldn't stop us from enjoying what he could share. Gave us something nice, and not our jobs, to talk about.He was pleased to have that part of his life under some measure of his own control again. He wasn't worried about how unhealthy processed food is. And why not, as he added, "I've lived a long life and done everything I set out to do, and I don't care about all that diet stuff", i.e., now I'm just going to enjoy myself. What a suddenly interesting and intriguing perspective on life! So the final arrangement was that whoever was preparing dinner would make salad and other veggies as normal and lmicrowave the frozen dinner, then plate up all of the food for the dining table so settings remained as gracious as ever. He ate with evident satisfaction, and there were no messy pots and pans to wash as there often is when meat is cooked in the house.That's just one dimension of what it was like. Whatever the difficulties, we found a way together. He died at 92, and we observed his 100th birth anniversary a couple of months ago.

Florida is kind of like a dysfunctional cousin to the rest of the United States. You’ve likely heard the stories. One Florida man chopped off another man’s head and removed part of his brain and an eyeball. He placed them in a plastic bag then walked 12 blocks to a cemetery to eat them.One “gentleman” was so mad that his wife didn’t thaw the frozen pizza that he shoved her face into a dog bowl. Then there is the instance when a guy forced his wife to swallow her diamond engagement ring after she announced she was leaving him. Another pizza story: A Florida man was arrested after he punched a delivery boy in the face after he forgot garlic knots.** Until it was shut down by the state, a Florida company would, for a $175 fee, bring alligators with their mouths taped shut to kids’ birthday pool parties.But why are Florida residents so angry/nuts? Ask a native Floridian this question and they’ll say it’s not them. Their theory tends to be that people who already have a predilection to be angry/nuts tend to gravitate to the sunshine state.Full Disclosure: I’ve been a Florida resident for a little over 13 years now. In my defense, I’ve never tried to bite off anyone's nose.For those of you who have only vacationed here, Florida isn’t all beachside condos and rich people wearing Rolexes and deck shoes enjoying cocktails on their yacht.** Not your typical Florida home.** Reality can be somewhat closer to this.Poverty abounds here. Lots of it. Jobs tend to pay only a fraction of what they pay up north (that’s anywhere that’s not Florida). When I first moved here I had to take a significant pay cut. My boss told me that it was made up for with the “sunshine bonus”. That is, no snow and fewer gloomy days. I asked her if the electric company accepted sunshine as payment. She didn’t think I was funny.There is also a serious mental health crisis throughout the state. Many people don’t have insurance and it’s notoriously difficult to qualify for Medicaid. Even if you do have insurance there is a lack of qualified mental health providers.Drug abuse and homelessness are rampant. Combine all of these factors with extreme heat and miserable traffic and you get desperate, depressed angry people who eventually don’t care about anything.I haven’t even mentioned the fact that it seems like everything in the state is out to kill you. Alligators might show up in your pool. Poisonous snakes are everywhere, and then there are the boa constrictors and pythons (that used to be pets) living and breeding in several swampy areas.Did I mention the wild boar and the bears? I live right on the edge of town and more than a few times I’ve heard wild boar making snorting noises on the other side of my fence. I can’t put my garbage out early because if I do black bears will come and rip it apart. I’ve made this mistake a couple of times.** Florida bear (Ursus americanus floridanus) on the front porch of a home near Miami.We have lots of black widow spiders as well as a few brown recluse. There are lots of different varieties of poisonous mushrooms as well as poisonous frogs. And this is just my back yard we are talking about.If you take a drive to the beach you have to share the road with some of the most dangerous drivers out there. Some road rage disputes have been settled with firearms. Once you get to the beach, especially if it is around Daytona or New Smyrna, the chance of becoming lunch for a shark becomes very real. New Smyrna Beach boasts that it is the “shark bite capital of the world”. If the sharks don’t get you, the surf just might. Dozens of people drown each year because of the strong riptides.** This sign in New Smyrna points the way to the beach.Most of the year the heat is absolutely oppressive. If you don’t stay hydrated you can go down for the count. And then there are the hurricanes. I’ve been through five or six of them. They can be frightening as hell because you can never be quite sure how they are going to track. If you get a direct hit, there is no escaping it. Trees and power lines come down. Huge chunks of debris are randomly flying around, sometimes about 100 mph (160 km/h) or so. Afterward, there is no power for several days. All of the food in the fridge goes bad, there is no running water, and temps inside the house can be over 90 F (32 C).When all of the above elements come together if can make for the perfect storm of crazy/weird/angry behavior.You’d be grumpy too.

Oh, too many to name. I have a lot of gaps in what many people consider ordinary skill sets. For example:Swim. I lived in Florida, entirely surrounded by water, but never learned to swim.Sew. A few weeks ago, I tried to replace the button on my jeans. It came off again today.Navigate. I have the worst sense of direction imaginable.Change a diaper. I’ve never had kids, nor been asked to take care of someone else’s kids.Polish shoes. I’ve literally never done this.