Showing posts with label future planning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label future planning. Show all posts

Friday, August 16, 2013

Aging Parents Fear the Future

Jessica Funkhouser’s specialty is putting together small clamps that attach conduits to the wall, but she has big dreams. At 28, she likes dragons and dinosaurs, heavy metal music and history. She wants to be a writer.
Tom Funkhouser and his wife,
Patti, right, with their daughters
Lori, 24, in pink, and Jessica, 28.
At Pride Industries’ Auburn workshop in California — where her father, 61-year-old Tom Funkhouser, a Navy veteran and Hewlett Packard retiree, works as a production trainer across the floor from Jessica’s work table — she puts on her turquoise earphones and deals with the clamps.“I usually just do clamp, clamp, clamp," she said.But she’s working, and she likes that.When she was born with a rare genetic disorder causing developmental disabilities and physical challenges, doctors told Tom and Patti Funkhouser that their tiny, dark-haired daughter would never walk or talk. She probably wouldn’t even survive childhood, doctors said.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Building Networks for a 'Good Life,' Even After the Caregiver Is Gone

This article is so on target it's not funny. A must read.
Twenty-five years ago, when Ted Kuntz, a family therapist in Vancouver, British Columbia, was preparing his will, he went around to family members and close friends asking if — in the event of his and his wife’s death — they would be willing to serve as a guardian for their son Josh, now 28, who has a severe cognitive disability and requires continual care. “Everybody said no,” recalled Kuntz. “They said the responsibility was too overwhelming, and they couldn’t imagine taking it on.”
Ted Kuntz, left, and his son, Josh.
As a young boy, Josh had frequent uncontrollable seizures. Life grew increasingly stressful, Kuntz recalled, and the family became isolated. “We were in crisis,” he said. “My wife quit her job and became a full-time caregiver for Josh. We were holding our breath constantly; people avoided us because we were angry; our family got worn out by the level of despair and pain we were feeling.”