by Mary Wakefield Buxton –
URBANNA—
A few years ago I wrote a whimsical column imagining my home (which I refer to as the “Pineapple Palace” in my fiction) turned into a home for spunky, aging ladies with full mental capacities who want to eschew nursing home facilities and provide their own assisted living. The idea was that they would pool their resources, hire their own cook and caretakers and live independently in a shared home where each had her own apartment but shared common areas to gather each day for intellectual exchange and companionship.
I had humorously imagined the criteria for living at the “Pineapple Palace” were the ability to never end a sentence with a preposition and recite apt Shakespearean quotations at just the right moment, (“Out, out damned spot!” in the laundry, “My kingdom for a horse!” when the car wouldn’t start, “To be or not to be” every morning at tea, etc. etc.)
I further suggested to keep arguing down, ladies of the South would dwell in the west wing and Yankee women in the East.
The day would be filled with ballet, tap, piano, art and poetry sessions in the River Room for those of an “artiste” nature with Majong, bridge and canasta games in the gallery for others. Rocking chairs would be set up in front of picture windows overlooking bird feeders to enjoy wildlife and classical music would be piped into the common areas.
The ladies would wear formal gowns to receive gentlemen friends (black tie required) at 5 p.m. each day in the parlor for that important ritual called “One Drink of the Day” with dinner served in the dining room on the remains of Aunt Lydie’s fine English bone china with silver goblets.
It was fun spoofing all my rules and regulations. But I was quite surprised when several of my aging friends called to ask me when they could move in!
On a serious note, there is a growing need for such facilities for women who need help in physical ways as they age but who have maintained full mental facilities. In other words, such ladies may be old but as the saying goes … “they are as sharp as a tack.”
I have a friend who is an example of such women and would be an excellent candidate for the “Pineapple Palace.” In her 90s, she suffered a serious fall last year from which she has not fully recovered and now needs 24-hour care. She ended up in an excellent facility which provides such care but yearns for stimulating companionship. COVID-19 shut down her facility and she can no longer even receive visitors except to wave or speak to them through her bedroom window. The days and nights are long.
My friend is a highly social person who loves people and needs intellectual contact with others. She told me over the telephone the big thrill of the week is sitting in her room and watching the garbage truck on the street arrive and pick up trash! Occasionally someone walking a dog will walk by her window which is a special treat. She can read, and this is a major blessing, but books can never replace the need for friends and family.
The problem is returning to her own home would require lining up 24-hour care service, which would require at least four shifts of workers. Not only would such an arrangement be exorbitantly expensive, it would be almost impossible for her to manage.
How can we plan for our old age in a way that will allow 24-hour physical care but give us more individual freedom, companionship and intellectual stimulation?
Of course, the first choice is to remain in our own home as long as possible but, if we must make a change, we want to maintain as much autonomy and independence as possible. The ideal answer for me is not to convert my own home to the “Pineapple Palace Assisted Living Plan,” but to join forces with a compatible threesome to build a four-unit, one-floor complex in a small town such as Urbanna (with access to stores, services and other conveniences), built around a center of shared kitchen, dining room and parlor allowing each occupant a private life in her own wing with plenty of opportunities to gather together for meals and events. This would end the social isolation of living alone, offer companionship and care to autonomous souls who still desperately want to keep what every American must have: individual freedom.
Such a need is strongly embedded in our genes. But could I afford it? Aye, that is always the question. In a world of constantly threatening viruses that especially threaten seniors and could possibly trigger even more tortuous future shutdowns, wouldn’t it be a good idea to begin figuring costs now?
© 2020
(Note to readers: Books make great Christmas gifts. Contact the Sentinel office in Urbanna to purchase Mary Wakefield Buxton’s latest books.)
