Raya’s Paradise was a godsend for my mother and my family. I live in Los Angeles, and when my mom could no longer take care of herself, we moved her out to Los Angeles from the East Coast, where she had lived all her life, so that she could be close to me. My brother (who’s a doctor) and I had promised her that we’d never put her in a nursing home, and so, after a couple of years of checking out different companies, we had gotten her an apartment in one of the Sunrise Independent Living facilities.

It didn’t take long to discover that, though Sunrise and its staff were very nice, the care level offered was not great enough for mom, who had senile dementia. For her to stay at Sunrise, we would have had to hire a personal nurse around the clock, and there was simply not enough money to do that.

I began looking for other options, and was referred to Raya’s and a couple of other small board and care facilities. Raya’s looked cleaner (in fact, it’s spotless) and homier, with a more professional staff than the other facilities. And though it was slightly more expensive than the others, it was still cheaper than the Sunrise facility, even without the expense of the personal nurse.

The key things I was looking for in a facility were staff-to-resident ratio – which at Raya’s seemed to be roughly one staff member for every two residents – and proximity to my work and mom’s doctors at Cedars Sinai Hospital.

I got that and more. From the start, Michael and his staff treated me like family. If I visited around mealtime, I was always offered a plate – and the food itself was like what mom used to make – stuffed peppers, salmon fillet, chicken, brown rice, plenty of vegetables and salad. Some lox and bagels every now and then for good measure.

Mom was able to receive Medicare-provided in-home health care and physical therapy, with her doctor’s prescription. She had come to Raya’s shortly after a stay in the hospital, and got stronger thanks to the loving care of the Raya's staff.

Not only was the staff wonderful to my mom and to me, but mom’s world was widened by Julie, the occupational therapist who comes weekly, tells stories and keeps residents involved, and Shlomo, the accordion player, a real pro and a true mensch, who actually got a resident I thought was mute to joyously sing a few words in accompaniment.

When my brother and his wife, both doctors, came to visit in October, they were overjoyed that I had managed to find a place that was such a good fit for mom --and, even better, that we had been able to make good on our promise to her that we’d never put her in a nursing home.

Mom passed away in November, but I give thanks that in the last year of her life, she could be close by to me, so well-cared-for and so happy.

Thank you, Michael.
Warmly,

Bill Edelstein