And then again, rather gloomy, my parents refused to move back to their roots (which is where we live) because of the few good friends they had made over the years in the rural town where they lived for forty years. it seemed very sensible at the time. We couldn't move to be near them because of jobs. We did visit very often. Over the next five or six years, their friends either died or moved to be nearer to their children and then my parents became too frail to drive so they couldn't go out and about or do the garden or carry on the hobbies they had in the past. So there they were, 100 miles from family, including extended family. There followed several years of emergency dashes down the motorway as well as the frequent visits, trying to arrange care at a distance, stopping them from being ripped-off by cowboy electricians, builders, roofers, gardeners, security firms.....then my father died and my mother immediately said she wanted to come and live with us. If they had moved near us, I think their last few years together would have been so much more trouble-free. At least they wouldn't have had to get someone in to change a lightbulb!