assistedlivingconcerns

Why does the phone always ring when you’re in the bathroom? And for some unexplained reason, you make a most indecorous attempt to get to the phone before it stops ringing, which you never do in time. They don’t leave a message, so you wonder who could have called? Out of a sense of pique, you decide it’s one of those damned telemarketers, feeling glad that you missed the call. But in the back of your mind, you still wonder who it might have been. Perhaps an old friend that somehow had tracked you down after all these years. That would have been so nice to hear that friend’s voice again. Or, then again, it might have been some bill collector who had a wrong number but wouldn’t have believed you when you told him so, thereby ruining your day.
Then again, it could have been some worthy cause making a pitch for a donation, wanting you to sign up for some program that feeds the starving poor in some far off land, or the ASPCA that needs funds to rescue injured animals. You know, all those movie stars that are so generous helping people who are down and out, usually in a distant place. It’s so hard to say no to these salespeople who get right under your skin by touching your overworked sense of guilt. They never want a single donation anymore, they want you to sign on for a monthly program that eats into to your charge account forever. You wring your hands wondering what to say to convince them you don’t want to give, but to do so in such a way that they will think well of you anyway, in other words, by not being rude or offensive, nor leaving the impression that you’re an uncaring cheapskate.
Why don’t people mind their own business, you say to yourself, still not satisfied that the call was not important. And at the same, annoyed and disappointed that the children don’t call more often, feeling as if no one cares anymore. And when they do call, they load you up with their problems, their opinions and their advice as to what you should be doing. And if you have signed on for some so-called worthy cause, the children accuse you of giving away their inheritance or being a soft-hearted sucker, demanding to know the name of the program so they can call and cancel it. Another bit about their calls that is distressing is that after the harangue they always sign off with “I love you mom.”
When you think how much you looked forward to retirement and now that it has come, you’re full of regrets that you didn’t hang on to that job a bit longer. And after your husband died, why didn’t you marry Harry who was such a comfort during the grieving period. He would have been the perfect person to say no to all those solicitors.

Living in a place like this Vintage senior care facility produces a never-ending wave of surprises. Hushed tones among the residents reveal their concern about the fate of another. Word floats about that so and so has gone to the hospital, but why no one seems to know. Time goes by, and lo and behold, that resident shows up for dinner looking great. In a way, we’re all thinking about ourselves and what will happen to us; happy that someone has recovered, strengthening our hopes to survive a setback when it comes. While many move on, those that make it, so to speak, reinforce our own thoughts about extending our stay among the living.
From my own experience living here in the Vintage community, I have come to marvel at the level of resident bravery I’ve witnessed, which has helped me deal with my own limitations and those of my spouse. My evolved opinion is this: the fundamental graciousness of the vast majority of the residents in this community makes the journey we each are taking seem so natural and becoming. Kind thoughts and gentle comradeship abound here, creating an atmosphere of hope and inspiration.
There’s a wonderful line in a song about New York that sums up how I feel about Vintage. It goes something like this: “if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.” Just like New York, this place has its challenges, but the opportunities to grow and enjoy living abound in both places, especially at Vintage.