Shirley, is there any way you could grab the bull by the horns and pick out the clothing yourself? Maybe you could talk to her doctor who could have a “come to Jesus meeting” with your mother and impress upon her the importance of moving on this issue? She might be dithering around just to show you that she’s still your mother and you can’t tell her what to do. Or, do what my parents did, which is wait for my grandmother to break her hip. They then packed her clothing, some furniture and moved it into a unit that just opened up at a facility they picked out. When the time came for her discharge from the hospital, the ambulance drove to the facility and my mom and dad wheeled her into her new home. Sure, she was pissed but there was nothing she could do about it. I know it was quite abrupt, but sometimes ya just gotta do what ya gotta do.
A couple of years ago, when my parents were living on the top floor of a garden apartment with sixteen steps to their condo, my mom would ask me what I’d do if an emergency happened, how fast I could get to them from work. Now, in the D.C. metro area, the traffic is very heavy and if you take public transportation like I do, it could very well be a couple of hours before I could get to them. I relayed this to my mom, who then sighed and gave me the “bad daughter” glare when I told her that I would not be rushing home, that she or my dad would have to contact emergency services and I’d get to them when I could. My other siblings more or less said the same thing; albeit much more diplomatically than I did. Now. my parents live in a retirement complex about 45 minutes away from their former home and they really like it there. I like it a lot to because there’s no way I’d surrender my life to wait on them hand and foot.