What should we older folks do when we get close to our use-by date?
One of the bloggers I have been following for a very long time is Aunty Uta, who moved from Germany to Australia with her husband and young family in the late 1950’s (I think – correct me if I’m wrong, dear Uta!). See https://auntyuta.com.
Now that her children are grown and she is a widow in her late eighties with grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she’s wondering about preparing to manage in the final years of her life. Should she hand over her house to her daughter and granddaughter, and restrict herself to just one room? A quandary that has set me thinking too.
My mother was running her own household, doing all her own shopping, cooking and cleaning, running upstairs and downstairs, managing her finances and everything else in daily life, until the age of 95. I went to help her for the last 5 years of her life, and as we had a very good relationship it worked out pretty well. It was tacitly recognised that she was still the boss, and that it was her house where she had the say-so. I was still her daughter, whatever arguments may have arisen! (See my blog posts from 2011 to 2017.)
That kind of relationship isn’t always possible, when roles are reversed and the “children” want to take care of their parents completely. They mean well but it’s very easy to start bossing the old ‘uns about, for their own good of course, and to prevent them running into any risks or hazards, but it’s an attitude that is very quickly resented by the elderly. “I’m not a little child!” is a frequently heard protest, and we are quick to perceive disrespect whether intended or not.
As for me, I started thinking vaguely about my old age (which seemed a long way off – it still does!) when I retired in my early sixties. I downsized from a very large house to a small rented 3-bedroomed duplex, taking far too much stuff with me, especially armchairs and sofas. After 18 months I downsized again and bought a much smaller 1-bedroomed ground-floor apartment leaving most of my seating behind for the following tenant. With hindsight, I acknowledge the value of making this adjustment in two stages. It would have been extremely difficult for me to go straight from my big house to my small apartment and I would have taken an awful lot of surplus furniture and belongings along, entailing much unnecessary work and expense in the removal.
I have now been in this apartment for 18 years, and am very happy here. It’s just the right size for me, in a beautiful location within easy reach of shops, the railway station and our local magnificent arboretum park with golf course (although I don’t play golf). I have good friends living not too far away, and now that the lockdown is over I am beginning to re-emerge from my shell, picking up on my social life again.
I purposely considered the advantages of a ground-floor flat should I lose my mobility. I’m grateful that, for the moment at least, I am still reasonably mobile and able to get out and about under my own steam. Having made a conscious effort over the past few months to improve my fitness, I can now walk without difficulty to wherever I need to go within two or three kilometres. I hope to continue in this way of life for a while yet.
However, I have to face facts and accept that there will come a time when I can’t manage all by myself and it can’t be too far away. The downside of living where I do is that I am a long way from my family – by Swiss standards at least; in Australia, we’d be considered as living next door to one another! But it’s about 150 km (because you have to go around mountains and lakes) door to door, and that isn’t always convenient.
Traditionally in Switzerland, the old folks would hand over the farmhouse to their son or daughter and family, and move into a much smaller building across the yard called the “Stöckli”. For all I know, this may still be happening in remote rural communities. It has the advantage that each generation has its own private premises, but is close enough to interact with the rest and help wherever help is needed, whether with babysitting or geriatric care. But my children don’t live in a farmhouse with a Stöckli, so that’s not an option for us.
Over the course of my quite long life, I have frequently been amazed by the way that what appear to be problems or dilemmas are suddenly solved by a deus ex machina. Some think it’s coincidence or serendipity, but to my mind it’s deliberate divine providence. Yes, Someone up there is really looking out for me, and I am very grateful.
Recently, through a series of coincidences, my Dear Daughter became aware of an apartment for sale in a block directly opposite her house. It had belonged to an old lady of 98, so was definitely suitable for the needs of an elderly person – and there’s also a lift in the building right next to the apartment. On inquiry, DD found it would be ideal for my old age but the asking price was too high. She discussed this with her husband and me, and they put in what they considered to be a fair offer but well below what the owners wanted.
After a while, they were informed that a much higher offer had been made; did they want to raise theirs? No, they didn’t. And we resigned ourselves to the situation. Then suddenly the agent rang to say that our offer had been accepted after all: the owners had sympathy with the idea that this was to be Granny’s home. Not surprising really, considering that it had been their Granny’s home, but sentimentality rarely wins over profit! A blessing for us, though, now.
What is particularly positive about all this is that there is no rush for me to move. Some refurbishing will have to be done, which will take a little time, and then either the flat can be let on a short lease or as an air bnb, or my daughter and son-in-law can use it as an extension of their own home, eg, as accommodation for visiting family members. When the time comes for me to move in, my present apartment can also be let. Win-win all round!
Well, as I said earlier, time is on our side right now and I can continue to rekindle my social life in my present surroundings and enjoy the company of my dear old friends until the moment of truth arrives. It looks and sounds too good to be true, and no doubt we’ll hit some kind of obstacle somewhere down the line, but it is so reassuring to know that there is, after all, a Stöckli waiting for me.