July 4, 2025 is now history. Our beloved country as a functioning democracy is officially on life support. All that Trump wanted he got and now officially owns the Republican Party. All kinds of postmortems are coming in, all of them bleak. Hundreds of thousands of undocumented immigrants will be rounded up in the months ahead, many sent to “dark prisons” in places like El Salvador and Sudan. The “Alligator Alcatraz” prison in the swamps of Florida is supposed to open immediately housing 5,000 undocumented people—in cages! Other similar giant makeshift prisons are planned around the country. There are more than 13 million undocumented people in the United States. Many industries—like construction, hospitals, long term care and assisted living, hotels, restaurants, and agriculture depend on them. If Trump’s goal is to get rid of all of them in four years, that would mean arresting, locking up, and deporting about 65,000 people a week or over 9,300 every day. That probably won’t happen but a lot of suffering will. The “Big Beautiful Bill,” which is now the law of the land, has  billions in funding for immigration and the expansion of ICE into what many describe as Trump’s personal police force and the largest federal police force in U.S. history. Trump now has the money to make a lot of this happen.

The immigration issue ranks at the top of my list of Trump atrocities because of the pain and suffering it will inflict on people whose only “crime” was to try to make a better life for themselves and their families. Embry and I are very close to several undocumented immigrant families. They now live in a world of terror.

But that is just the beginning. To make permanent and expand the massive tax breaks for the ultra rich, deep cuts will be made to Medicaid, the ACA (Obamacare) subsidies, and to SNAP (food stamps). What is going to happen to the people who depend on these services? The CBO estimates that over 17 million people will be affected. Many hospitals serving inner city neighborhoods and rural areas will likely close.

The irony here, of course, is that Trump and his allies now proclaim that they are now the party of the working class. The working class did shift in large numbers to vote for Trump, responding to his anti-establishment, populist rhetoric. Well, Trump’s policies will devastate many of the working class people who switched from Democrat to Republican. Classic bait and switch.

And then there is the dismantling of USAID and the termination of most of the vital aid to struggling people in Africa, parts of Asia, and struggling countries throughout the world. Experts estimate the lives lost could total hundreds of thousands or higher. And what about all the USAID workers who are now without jobs? What about the transformation of the government workforce from professional public servants to Trump sycophants and MAGA loyalists?

The list continues: ending subsidies for combatting climate change initiatives, providing subsidies for polluting industries, attacks on education, especially elite colleges and universities, drastically cutting funding for science and medical research, attacks on all things LGBTQ, trans gender, and “woke,” and massive amounts of dollars for expansion of the military. Trump’s excessive tariffs are supposed to start any day. And this is just for starters. With a Congress controlled by Republican Trump sycophants and a friendly U.S. Supreme Court, who knows what other nightmares Trump and his followers will come up with?

And, finally, there is prediction by the CBO, that these initiatives will add at least $5 trillion to the national debt, a dire situation which no reputable economist believes is sustainable without wrecking the economy.

Have you heard enough?

Well, what are you (we) going to do about it? Friends, we are witnessing the igniting of a five alarm fire. My generation has been lucky. We missed World War II, and most of those pursuing higher education got out of the draft during the War in Vietnam. The economy has prospered, and the country has made great advances in science, medicine and technology. We have started to address latent racism and have strengthened social and healthcare safety nets. Jobs have been plentiful for those seeking them. We have  avoided full scale war and a nuclear holocaust. And we also had the civil rights movement, which both Embry and I were involved in and which  we both see as a pivotal moment in our lives.

At the same time economic disparities have worsened starting in the early 1980s. Racism and prejudice against people with different appearances or sexual orientations stubbornly persist.  Working class incomes have stagnated, and there has been backlash from the working class regarding perceived elitism by those with college and advanced degrees.

I think that the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s followed by the Antiwar Movement of the mid 1970s may offer some hope for the future and some guidelines as to how to begin to extinguish the five alarm fire unleased by Trump and his Republican and Supreme Court allies.

 Here are the lessons learned:

Don’t expect the Democrats to put the fire out. Neither Democrats nor Republicans were part of the Civil Rights Movement until very late in the effort. The movement was grass roots and   started in earnest in 1961 with the  freedom rides to Alabama and the sit ins in Greensboro, NC, and quickly spread to many other parts of the South. However, these actions were not spontaneous. There were lots of people and organizations involved in the planning and execution of the resistance effort—the NAACP, CORE, SCLC, SNCC, the National Urban League, and several other groups. Progressive churches and other religious institutions were also important. To fight Trump and his agenda, we need organizations united behind the effort and we need money and sound planning. This is starting to happen. The No Kings Protests attracted over four million people. But more organizations need to step up  and more planning needs to happen. Organizations like the ACLU, CASA, SPLC are leading in pushing back on immigration, but more will be needed along with resources and money.

We also need strong, charismatic leaders. The leaders of the Civil Rights Movement made a huge difference. Martin Luther King was the most prominent but there were many more—James Farmer of CORE, Stockley Carmichael and John Lewis of SNCC, Whitney Young of the Urban League, Malcom X, Caesar Chavez and many others. Most of these leaders were at the time under 40. We need younger people to step up, speak out, and take leadership roles.

We need nonviolent mass demonstrations and nonviolent civil disobedience.

We need massive voter registration drives for the 2026 elections.

We need celebrities and progressive business leaders to speak out.

We need mainstream progressive religious groups—Protestants, Catholics, Jews and Muslims–to speak out.

Most important we need to win back the working class and motivate them to get Democrats elected in 2026.

All is not lost. Trump will surely overplay his hand. What he is doing is enormously unpopular. The charge for the Opposition is to broadcast what his policies are doing, how they are destroying people’s lives, and how they will ultimately destroy our democracy. Don’t give up hope. The 2026 midterm elections are just over a year away. I predict that with a strong resistance and voter registration and motivation effort Democrats will retake the House and the Senate and put an end to this madness before it destroys more lives and our democracy.

In the end, however, we all have to step up to the plate. There is a great quote from Margaret Meade, “Never doubt that a small group of committed people can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

 

 

 

There are several truisms that come to mind regarding continuing care retirement communities in general and Collington in particular. Everyone is old, many in their late 80s and 90s. The vast majority are women, mostly widows. And all are survivors. This also means those of us living in CCRCs have stories to tell regarding the ups and downs of our lives and most of us have experienced losses. The vast majority of single people living here have lost a spouse. Some of us have lost children.

You might think that given the experiences we old folks have had and the health issues and challenges that many at our age face daily that there would be grousing, complaining and “organ recitals” on a regular basis. Not so at Collington. Embry and I have lived here now for almost three months and have not heard a whimper or complaint from anyone about their health or personal challenges. You could say “Collingtonians” soldier on, making the best of the years we have left, squeezing the last few drops out of the lemon. Even though a fellow resident may not know you, you can always count on a smile and a nod and often an enthusiastic hello from someone you pass by on the way to dinner or an event. The only complaints that you hear regularly are about Trump, climate change and his assault on our democracy.

In this post I am going to break the code of silence regarding health issues and tell you about a recent health scare I had, which I have not breathed a word about to anyone at Collington to avoid breaking what appears to be an unwritten code of silence about such matters. About six months ago I was diagnosed with high blood pressure, which I explained to the doctor was a direct response to Trump and the discomfort he is causing to so many. For the past several months the doctors at Kaiser have been tinkering with the dosage of three new   blood pressure meds, which have resulted in readings both significantly above normal ( 180-200 systolic instead of 110-120) or way too low (60-80 systolic). Progress is being made, but so far they have not figured out the right mix that allows me to maintain a consistent relatively normal blood pressure. The most recent challenge has been that the pressure has been on the low side, which is good since it does not signal that I am not on the verge of a stroke but bad because it causes dizziness and could cause me to pass out resulting in a head injury. But, hey, this is just part of the aging process, and the good thing is that doctors have a lot more to work with using medications which were not available for my father who had his first (of several) strokes when he was about my age.

My turn came last Sunday, June 22, when walking to the Kennedy Warren, our old digs, following lunch after church with a fellow parishioner at All Souls. I was in search of a cool place where I could lie down for a couple of hours while Embry worked on stuff to close down her stint as senior warden. The temperature was close to 100 with heavy humidity and a blazing sun. I had not walked more than a dozen steps from the restaurant when I had to pause to keep on my feet, then another dozen steps and more dizziness. I took a deep breath and told myself I could make it through the zoo crowd the next 50 yards to the top of the hill and the entrance to the zoo where I thought I might be able to find a bench in the shade. I got about halfway to the top of the hill when I became very dizzy. At the very moment when the world was spinning around me and I could feel that I was going to pass out, two friends from the Kennedy Warren suddenly appeared before me on the crowded sidewalk, a retired family doctor and his wife, a retired nurse. He grabbed me under one shoulder and his wife under the other, and they guided me up the hill and then toward the Kennedy Warren as we nudged our way between the sweltering zoo goers. With great difficulty we made it to the lounge area in the cool lobby of the K-W where they sat me down on a comfortable couch. My doctor friend excused himself while his wife encouraged me to rest and stay calm. Minutes later he returned with a huge bottle of Gator Aid and a portable blood pressure device (like the one I have at Collington to measure my blood pressure several times a day), and after reading the numbers exclaimed in a panic that he was dialing 911. My systolic blood pressure reading was in the low sixties, a miracle, he said, that I had not passed out. But I surely would have if he and his wife had not come along at exactly that moment. The 911 operator asked what insurance I had and then passed the call off to the “emergency nurse” at Kaiser, who directed me to go to the nearest Kaiser Urgent Care Center. He offered to call a Lyft at their expense and promised that we would be first in line when we arrived. The Lyft ride did not show up, but my friend ordered an Uber, which he paid for, and drove both of us to the Kaiser Capitol Hill Urgent Care Center, about a 30 minute drive. As promised, we were first in line, got to see the urgent care nurse and then a very sharp doctor within minutes where they gave me more Gator Aid and cold water, checked my blood pressure and vital signs, with my friend by my side, monitoring every move and providing encouragement.  After a few minutes my blood pressure was up to close to 100 and in about a half hour, I was rested and was free to leave. He adjusted the prescription, called for a new one for me to pick up at the pharmacy before we left, and made an appointment for me with my primary care physician for early the next week. Embry picked us up in front of the Kaiser office, and we dropped my friend off and headed home. Dodged another bullet, as they say. My guess is that most of my fellow residents at Collington have dodged their share of bullets.

Now how lucky was that! Just as I was about to pass out on a crowded sidewalk leading to the zoo, along come two people I knew—a retired doctor and retired nurse—who knew instantly that I was in serious trouble and knew exactly what to do. What would have happened if I had passed out? What were the chances of hitting my head on the sidewalk? What were the odds of this miraculous rescue happening at this time and in this place?

As Embry drove me home, I remembered reading a line from (I think) A Gentlemen in Moscow which said that “a coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”

 

 

 

How afraid should we be at this moment? Let me count the ways:

Trump is going all out on ridding the country of undocumented immigrants. The needless pain and suffering he is causing is beyond the pale. There are all sorts of stories of kids five or six years old or younger whose parents were ripped out of the car by masked ICE workers fully armed leaving the kids alone and abandoned. Trump has taken control of the California National Guard and ordered  the marines to energize immigrant arrests and expulsions. While Los Angeles is getting hit the hardest, Trump has warned that this is just the beginning. No city is safe. Blue cities and blue states are next, and sanctuary cities are top on the list. Due process  is being  ignored and will continue to be ignored  as long as Trump can get away with it.  Top aid Stephen  Miller just announced that by the end of the year, one million undocumented immigrants will have been deported, and hinted that by the end of Trump’s  second presidential term they all will be gone. Friends, there are between 12 and 13 million undocumented people living in the U.S. They make up over five percent of the population and a considerably higher percent of the work force. Industries like construction, hospitality, agriculture, long term care, restaurants, landscaping, and many others on depend on them. They do the heavy lifting no one else wants to do. Not only is this unbearably cruel. It is stupid, will harm the U.S. economy, and will cost billions.

Israel has just bombed Iran in the most lethal bombing yet. Iran is retaliating. Many believe that this could quickly get out of hand leading to a regional war or worse. Trump is doing nothing for now. We could get drawn into this and do not know where it will lead, yet our diplomatic acumen is a thing of the past.

The war in Ukraine lingers on with more drones killing people in major Ukrainian cities and also in Russia. There have been over a million deaths and casualties on the Russian side, fewer on the Ukrainian side, but a higher percentage of the population. There is no end in sight. Russia has more nuclear weapons than any country including  the U.S. (which has close to the same number, just over 5,000). What are the chances that one mistake or miscalculation could lead to a nuclear holocaust?

The U.S. has given NATO the middle finger and told them in so many words that what is happening in Ukraine is their problem, not ours. Putin and Kim Jon Ung continue to be Trump’s buddies.

The largest military parade in U.S. history—with 7,000 soldiers, dozens of massive tanks and missiles, planes, helicopters and paratroopers)  will happen today, Saturday, June 14, celebrating Trump’s 75^th birthday (and, yes, the army’s 250th anniversary, but really does anyone think that this is a coincidence?). Trump has threatened dire consequences to anyone who protests.

The war in Gaza continues every day with body counts of innocent victims whose bodies are beneath the rubble of yet another building destroyed. And for what reason? Aid trucks are still on most days stalled at the border. Trump’s solution? Move them all out and build towering casino’s and hotels along with another Trump golf course and resort.

The health care system is now led by a nut case who does not believe in vaccines and has replaced  all the experts in the public health leadership team with people who agree with him.

Thousands of federal workers have been arbitrarily laid off by “genius” Elon Musk and a bunch of whiz kid, tech DOGE bros for no apparent reason except to limit the size of the federal  government and to cut costs including  aid to poor countries. If this stays in place, thousands will die. Many are already dying, and the desperate pleas for help you see on television news are heart breaking.

While it is becoming apparent that maybe extreme tariffs are not the smartest thing for the U.S. or the world economy, there is no assurance that the TACO President (“Trump always chickens out.”) will back off before scarcities of goods start to happen, U.S. businesses fail, and prices skyrocket.

Trump is doing everything he can to cut every environmental regulation he can and reenergize the fossil fuel industry.

Government programs like SNAP, the Affordable Care Act, and Medicaid are all on the chopping block in Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill,” and Medicare and Social Security are likely to follow.

The billionaire class is about to get the biggest tax break ever, resulting in massive federal operating deficits and adding between  three and five trillion dollars to the national debt, a  dire situation which no reputable economist in the country believes is sustainable. Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill if it becomes law will result in the largest transfer of money and wealth from the poor to the rich in the history of the Republic.

And Trump has declared war on higher education, withdrawing financial support from major colleges and universities, threatening to bring them to their knees. He has also gone after major law firms, most of which have caved and agreed to his bidding for free.

Watching over this is a morally and intellectually bankrupt Republican Party, which when the Boss says jump, responds with “how high.” And they are the ones who have the majorities in both the House and the Senate.

Few guardrails are left. The adults in the room during Trump’s first term are out and a group of sycophants and extremists are in with Trump’s cabinet labeled by many as the worst of all time.

What have I missed?

Oh, yes, Trump’s war on all things DEI and his overt racism.

The question is whether there is a silver lining. The courts appear to be (for now) the only hope we have for softening the blows, but six of the nine justices are Republican presidential  appointees, including three by Trump. The only two who might save us from catastrophe are Barrett and Roberts. Pray that they will save us. But will Trump obey a Supreme Court order he does not like? If he doesn’t, then the American experiment is over.

But there are signs of hope. Trump’s popularity is plummeting in recent polls. Massive demonstrations will happen in all 50 states today,  Saturday, June 14, proclaimed  “No Kings Day.” People are speaking out. Newsome’s resistance and comments are inspiring.  Despite the apparent disarray of the Democratic Party and its gerontocracy, people are starting to step up. Younger, fresher faces are emerging.

And most of all, we are not bad people in America. Yes, we are a nation in turmoil and discontent (much of which is due to social and economic inequalities), but there are many people who want to do the right thing and there are many MAGAs who must be beginning to realize that they have been sold a bill of goods. Trump has pulled the country’s biggest bait and switch. For now the courts have not caved, and in only a year and a half there will be new elections for Congress. A court ordered Trump to turn over control of the California National Guard to Newsome. There is hope. But it is likely to be a rough ride and could get worse, much worse, before it gets better.

So yes. We are inching closer to the abyss but it does not have to end that way. Fasten your seatbelts and fight the good fight. But keep it nonviolent. This worked in the Civil Rights Movement. It can work again.

 

On June 3 The New York Times podcast, “The Daily” featured an interview with New York Times  political correspondent, Shane Goldmacher, who had just completed a voting analysis of how every county in the country voted in the last three presidential elections. Boy, was this an eye opener! The shift in voting behavior in this election was staggering. In counties where there were significant numbers of low income and working class people, Trump made huge gains—and not just from white working class voters. More African Americans and Latinos also voted for Trump and switched their votes in large numbers from Democratic to Republican. His conclusion: In 2024 the Republican Party became the party of the working class in America due to the charisma of Donald Trump and his message trashing the Democrats as elitist. Goldmacher’s message was this: Trump owes his victory in large part to this switch in voting behavior and since there are more moderate income and working class voters in presidential elections than there are professionals, intellectuals, and highly educated people, if the Democrats have any hope of recovering, they must reclaim their former role as the party of the working class.

I was not surprised about the white working class, but African Americans, Latinos, and others with moderate incomes? I was shocked. What are those who switched their votes to Trump thinking? What do they see in Trump?

Trump, of course, is a fraud. However, he also has talent in marketing and communicating, saw an opening and pounced on it. He sensed the anger and despair so many feel who live from paycheck to paycheck. His message of revenge and retribution resonated with many who are struggling and the Democrats allowed him to get away with the Big Lie that he and only he will right the wrongs that ail America’s working class.

I am hopeful that it will soon become obvious to many people  who voted for him that fundamentally his polices overwhelmingly favor the rich and the superrich, not the working class. He has tossed them a few crumbs like no taxes on tips or overtime work, but the thrust of the Trump/ Republican budget bill now being debated is a huge giveaway to the ultrarich, partially paid for with cuts to programs which help those with modest incomes—Medicaid, SNAP (food stamps), the ACA, and affordable housing subsidies. In addition, Trump’s tariffs, the huge increase in the national debt due to tax breaks for the megarich and his trade wars will result in higher prices across the board along with higher interest rates, hurting lower income Americans the most. This is classic Bait and Switch 101.

Surely, when you lose your health care, your food stamps, and your rents go up and when the prices of essentials at the grocery store start to skyrocket, you are likely to ask the question, is this really what I voted for. It is only a matter of time. But how long will it take? And how much damage will have been done? Recent polls indicate that Latino converts are already having second thoughts as they see their neighbors handcuffed and carted away.

At this point it is not clear what will emerge out of the Senate. Trump can only lose three votes, and of the five or six Republican Senators who say they will not vote for the bill that came out of the House, it appears to be split down the middle between those who are against the cuts to Medicaid and SNAP and those who demand more cuts to social programs which help the working class in order to lower the deficit. How this ultimately works out is “to be continued,” but already there is pushback from Latinos who are terrified by the deportations and by others who depend on the social programs for survival. Good luck, Republicans, on keeping the new working class voters who helped elect you and Trump in 2024. So there is hope for the Democrats, but this  won’t happen until  the midterm elections in 2026 and lots of damage will have been done before the Democrats can regain control of the House.

 

 

 

 

Turning back from life at Collington to the news we routinely read about or see on television ….

Every day it seems there is a new revelation of a Trump atrocity or excess. This week it was about all the money he and his family have made the past year, most of it after he was inaugurated—a net worth increase to the tune of $2.9 billion, according to Forbes (April 2025)—and we are now only at the beginning of his second term. Trump casinos, Trump championship golf courses, and Trump high rise luxury hotels seem to be on the drawing boards all over the planet, and there appears to be no end in sight. The new “Executive Branch” in Georgetown, a club just started by his oldest son, which hints of special access to the President for a mere $500,000 membership fee, is reportedly already a hot ticket item, and Trump’s bit coin business is booming. And having your own personal, multibillion dollar, luxury jumbo jet, compliments of Qatar, is shrugged off by the President as nothing unusual.  Nor has there been a peep of outrage among members of the Grand Old Party, which in days of yore has stood for good government, anti corruption, and fiscal responsibility. Fearing being “primaried out” by MAGA extremist candidates financed by Elon Musk and other billionaires, formerly moderate Republican senators and congressmen have caved.  Using Trump’s words, “The world has never seen anything like it.”

No, we haven’t.

The excesses, grifting, and pay-to-play Trump kleptocracy are not the worst of his presidency. There are more, even worse, disasters. The first is the Trump/House FY 2026 budget, fueled by more tax breaks for the rich, which if it becomes law or anything even close to its current form, will result in an increase in the deficit of the United States of between $4 and $5 trillion according to the CBO. No economist with a brain thinks that these horrendous deficits are sustainable. The deficits—due mainly to more tax cuts for the wealthy— will eventually bring us down.

Then there is the needless harm and cruelty inflicted on so many people both in the U.S. and abroad. Embry has been counseling on the phone people laid off from USAID and who live all over the world. These are good, hardworking people, people who were making a difference. A majority are not Americans. Few have any real options for a job that is anywhere near what they had at USAID. And what about all the millions of people that these programs were helping? Estimates are that thousands will die due to the AID money termination. Add to that the thousands of other federal workers and government contractors whose jobs have been eliminated.

Next is the harm caused by his targeting immigrants and the poor. We are very good friends with one undocumented immigrant family, who is terrified as are most of their undocumented friends fearing that knock on the door or the call into the office of their supervisor who has an ICE official standing beside him with a weapon in his hand. There are an estimated 12-13 million of these people in the United States. Trump has pledged to  rid the country of immigrants, an action which will destroy lives,  cost many billions of dollars to accomplish, and hurt the US economy.

What about the children, the poor, the elderly, and the disabled on Medicaid?  What will happen to them when Medicaid is crippled and the ACA subsidies vanish? How many rural and inner city hospitals, which depend on those subsidies to keep their doors open, will be forced  to shut down? What will happen to all the establishments that hire undocumented workers to do the work that no one else wants to do? To the farmers who depend on these workers to harvest the crops, to the restaurants, the hospitals, the landscaping and construction firms?

What about the millions of children who depend on SNAP ( food stamps) for a decent daily meal?

What about the tariffs, which economists tell us will surely cause inflation if enacted. Many economists believe it could throw world economies into chaos. And the attack on higher education and elite research universities? Where will this end?

This is insanity. It is as if some alien creature somehow clawed his way into the White House in the middle of the night while no one was looking. But we were looking. Our country voted for this guy. How did this happen and how do we claw our way out of this morass?

I suggest there are several reasons for Trump’s reelection:

The first is what I call “The Era of Great Discontent” caused by the increasing gap between the haves and the have nots in our country. Starting in the 1980s the income gap began to widen due to changes in the tax laws favoring the wealthy, diminished power of labor unions, technology causing disruption in the job market, and the exodus of American manufacturing to lower cost countries. A lot of people in the country are struggling paycheck to paycheck and are not happy campers. Many of these people are in the working class, or are people without a college degree. The average worker made more money (adjusted for inflation) in 1980 than he or she did in 2024. A CEO of a typical major corporation in 1980 made about 30 times the income of an average worker in that person’s company. In 2024 the number was over 300 times as much. The likes of Warren Buffet pay a lower tax rate than his secretary. Trump realized this malaise and anger and made a faux populist pitch that if elected he would be their president and right the ship that the Democrats sunk. This message resonated, even though it was a blatant lie that the Democrats were solely responsible for this. While the changes happened under both Democratic and Republic presidents, the tax cuts for the ultrarich and major corporations have been championed by the Republicans, not the Democrats, and are a major factor.

The second cause are  missteps made by Democrats. Over the last several decades the base of the Democratic Party has morphed from the working class to the “educated class.” There are lots of reasons for this –some related to the progressive thinking of people with college degrees and their (our) increased awareness of lingering racism. Whether fair or not, racism became associated mainly with working class white people. College educated, white people were perceived by many in the working class as snobs and elitists, who dissed those whom they considered racist and beneath them. Diversity, Equity and Inclusion was perceived by many in the working class as rubbing salt in the wounds of people who themselves were struggling. Shame on the Democrats for allowing Trump to get away  with proclaiming that now the Republicans are the working class party.

The third is “un-leveling” the playing field. Big money and gerrymandering are not limited to Republicans. Both parties are guilty. Yet the dark money in politics favors the Republicans. There is something basically wrong with our system when the likes of Elon Musk, Peter Thiel and other tech bros and billionaires can tip elections to right wing extremists by spending millions of dollars in races at every level they consider important.

And finally–and perhaps most important– we come to the age and health of Joe Biden. While he accomplished a lot in his first term, does anyone think (now) that he should have run for a second term? He pledged early on that he wouldn’t and clearly did not have the mental capacity or acuity to take on another four years. If he had announced at the midterms that he would not be running, there would have been time for a legitimate Democratic primary. I am an admirer of Kamala Harris but given the hand she was dealt and the limited time she had to win over a divided nation, the deck was stacked against her. It is remarkable that she did as well as she did.

So here we are, facing what could be the greatest crisis in the U.S. since World War II, not knowing how we will maneuver through these troubled waters or how our nation will recover. Stay tuned. And feel free to weigh in now in the comments section with ideas as to how we get out of this mess. That will be the subject of my next blog post.

 

 

 

I have gotten questions from several friends asking for more information as to why we moved to a retirement community, specifically a “continuing care retirement community” or CCRC, and how it is working out for us so far after a couple of months.

Here is my answer:

Last time I checked, we Homo sapiens—like all life on the planet Earth–have a beginning and an end. On average in the United States our allotted life spans are around 75 years though factors such as income, education, genes, race, gender, lifestyle, and luck affect the outcomes. It is also a fact of life that as we get older, we can’t do many of the things we used to be able to do. For some this is physical and for others it is mental, but we all slow down. And we all die. And there is great variety in how the checking out process works. For some it could be fast and quick like a heart attack or stroke. For others it could be a long, slow, and often painful slog. A continuing care retirement community provides one option that tries to make the most of the remaining years we humans have left by providing a support structure that allows people to get through the aging and checking out process, minimizing the pain and suffering that often accompanies it, along with enriching the time we have left. I call it squeezing the last drops out of the lemon.

The definition of a continuing care retirement community or CCRC (now also called a Life Plan community) is a senior living community that offers a continuum of living/care options under one roof or on the same campus—independent living, assisted living, and long term care. The concept, however, has evolved over time. When it was first “invented” in the early 1950s, it was called “life care” (started by the Pacific Homes of the Northwest, a Methodist group in California, followed soon after in Philadelphia by several Quaker life care communities), there were only two levels– independent living and long term care–but this has changed over the years due to government regulations  and a better understanding of the aging process. Long term nursing care, for example, has morphed into rehab due mainly to Medicare reimbursement regulations, which provide government financial support for up to 90 days for seniors coming out of the hospital. Also, in the early 1980s when it became evident that people who were in the natural aging process did not benefit from being in nursing homes with a hospital-like setting, assisted living emerged and became a popular alternative to the traditional nursing home. In addition, in the 1990s when it became evident that people who were physically in need of support did not mix well with people with dementia, the concept of “memory care” was invented. So today what distinguishes a CCRC from other retirement options like a Sunrise or other assisted living or residential senior living communities is providing a continuum of living options under one roof or on one campus—independent living, assisted living, memory care, and skilled nursing care, now often relabeled rehab. Some communities provide three levels of living/care on site with access to skilled care/rehab offsite, though monitored by the community. Collington falls into this category with arrangements with nearby private rehab facilities, where residents stay for up to 90 days following a hospitalization before returning to Collington. The concept of having the full support system in place distinguishes a CCRC from other options like assisted living or service enriched, independent living, senior living communities. Collington also has on site a full service geriatric medical practice, which is part of the Medstar system.

Most CCRCs require both an upfront fee called an entrance fee and a monthly fee which is adjusted annually based on the cost of providing services and care. There are all sorts of options regarding how  entrance fees work. The early entrance fees (called “founders fees”) were amortized over a five year period so that if you died after that period your estate did not receive a refund. Due to the high cost involved in developing, financing, and operating a CCRC, the entrance fees have increased considerably though the higher fees usually have a refund provision, refunding up to 90% of the initial amount.  Also, in some CCRCs (“Type A” communities), the monthly fee does not increase significantly  when you relocate to a higher level of care. There are also CCRCs which are coops or condos. These communities all provide meals, housekeeping, lots of activities, and scheduled transportation. (Usually, the cost of a daily dinner is included in the monthly fee as are the costs of these services.) The vast majority of CCRCs, like Collington, are not-for-profit communities.

Because of the high cost of developing and operating these communities (which are passed off to residents), the resident populations tend to be relatively well off financially, but certainly everyone is not rich. At Collington because of the wide range of living accommodations, there is a wide range of prices of entrance and monthly fees, and the Collington population seems to me to be, for the most part, solidly middle class–and also highly educated. Collington has a large library with several shelves displaying books by current residents and another entire section for books by former residents. (I proudly placed a copy of Hard Living on Clay Street and Civil Rights Journey in the current resident author section.)

The preferred retirement option for most people, of course, is remaining in their own homes. Moving is extremely stressful and costs money, and most people do not want to leave familiar neighborhoods where many old friends remain. The senior village movement got started a few decades ago to help seniors remain in their homes, and local senior villages provide activities, transportation, and fellowship for seniors. Some CCRCs now even offer “life care at home.” Most people will slog it out and take their chances, bringing in home health care aides or getting help from their children if they need it. While sticking it out is the option that most people follow, however, it often fails to address the challenges of loneliness and isolation; and if you need in-home care from aides, it can be extremely expensive though long term care insurance provides some cushion on the cost issue.

There is no silver bullet or right way or wrong way to manage the aging process, and there are pros and cons with all the options. Ironically, Embry was the prime motivator for our moving to Collington rather than me, even though I was the one with professional senior living experience. I think that the thought of having to take care of a cranky, aging old husband in a small apartment was too much for her, and she was right.

What struck me immediately upon moving to Collington was how many really old people there are here. Well, duh. It figures. Collington is approaching its 40^th anniversary, and someone moving in in 1986 at age 75 would be approaching 115 in 2025. While Collington does have some people over 100, a whole lot of people are  in their mid 80s to mid 90s. Since new residents coming in are typically in their late 70s, there are really two generations of old folks living here. Also, like all CCRCs, the vast majority are single, older women. Another “duh.” Men in the U.S. typically marry younger women, and women outlive men. That is just the way it is.  I was surprised by my initial reactions when I ventured into the community center and entered the main dining room the first time and looked around seeing so many people using walkers and canes, and some in wheelchairs. “Oh, my goodness,” I thought, “These people are really, really old! I am not one of them! I don’t belong here. I am too young.”

Then I heard the voice of the better angle in my brain, “Yes, you do, Joe. You are 83. You may not be as old as some, but you will be in a few years, if you are lucky, and by the way, you too now use a walking stick.”

Shame on me! Plus, over the two months we have lived here, I continue to be impressed with the energy, determination, wisdom, community engagement, and cheerfulness of those using walkers or are in wheelchairs–and others who are considerably older than me. They are an inspiration.

And yes, in a community this large with over 350 old folks, you are constantly reminded of the fact that our lives on the Earth are limited. There is a display area that posts every week or so the names and photographs of people who have recently passed away, and there are memorial services that regularly happen. But people take this in stride, and out of this I think comes a wisdom of how short, yet how miraculous life is, and how blessed the survivors are–those who have lived long enough to be in a CCRC– to have had our short time on this small, blue planet in a vast universe containing trillions of galaxies.

 

More to follow ….

When you move from DC to Maryland you need a new driver’s license and new tags for your car and have two months to do this. Naturally I have been putting off the chore, so this week, with only a few weeks to spare, I decided to go to the Maryland DMV to get the new tags and driver’s license. How hard could this be? Thousands of people probably move from DC to the Maryland suburbs every year. I went online to their website, read everything, and headed for the DMV, only a couple of miles away, carrying all the necessary documents– proof of identity, place of residence, evidence of car insurance and car title.

The line for customer service had about 50 people ahead of me, but since there were four agents behind windows answering questions, it was moving quickly. The huge office had something like 35 windows with agents helping customers who already had appointments. Scores of people were sitting in the lobby peering up at screens which showed the appointment number being called and the window to report to. The customer service line slowed down when one of the agents left for a lunch break, followed by another exit, but still in “only” 30 minutes I arrived at the desk for instructions. The first available appointment was in three days and I took it, then confirmed with the agent that I had with me all that was required– a passport, car title, DC driver’s license, and evidence of car insurance and asked if there was anything else I needed. She smiled, shook her head, saying I was in good shape, booked me, gave me an appointment sticker, and off I went back to Collington.

Three days later I arrived about a half hour before my scheduled appointment, checked in, confirmed my arrival at the appointment machine, and settled in on the first row staring up at the screen along with 50 or 60 other expectant customers. I remembered that this was the same facility I had been to years before when I took our Afghan refugee friend to get her drivers license (aided by a consultant/translator who answered every question for her.) Hey, if Mariam could get her drivers license without studying and with limited English language experience, certainly it would be easy for me to get a Maryland license, picturing that in an hour or so I would be driving back to Collington, smiling, with new Maryland tags and drivers license.

When my number popped up on the screen, I shuffled over to Window 25. Behind the glass wall was a small woman, wearing a covid mask, who greeted me with a slight accent, which sounded to me like she might have been from India.  The waiting room was  packed by this time, creating insufferable ambient noise, requiring me to ask her to repeat everything she said. With disgust in her voice, she shouted instructions to turn over all the required documents, which I proudly did—DC license, passport, car insurance, car title and two letters to me mailed to my Collington address —everything I thought I needed according to the website instructions plus more– a printout from Collington showing that I was current on my monthly fee.

“Where is your social security card?” she asked in a tone that was starting to sound hostile.

“I don’t have the card,” I replied. “In fact, I am 83 years old and have never been asked for it as far as I can remember. Not in my entire life.”

She scowled and continued looking through the other material.

“Well, without a social security card, you are not getting a license, but that is the least of it.”

“Excuse me? Why do I need a social security card to get a license?”

She did not respond to that question but followed by stating I needed to show two “proofs of identity.”

I pointed to my DC license and my passport.

“I am not able to accept either one since they do not show you live in Maryland.”

“Excuse me.”

“The big issue is that you do not have any definitive documents that show you live in Maryland.”

I pointed to the two letters addressed to me at my Collington address that were shown on the website as sufficient documentation.

“The letters addressed to you must be from a federal or state agency,” she snarled.

“Well, what about the printout from Collington showing that I am current on my monthly fee?”

“That is not sufficient. You have to provide the signed lease that you have for your apartment or a deed of trust showing you own your home. Period. No exceptions. It says so in my instructions. Now leave so I can help other customers.”

When I explained that I lived in a continuing care retirement community only a couple of miles away and that I did not have a lease or deed of trust but a “residency and care agreement” about 40 pages long, she shrugged her shoulders and scorned.

“Well,” she said “I do not know anything about a communal care community or whatever you call it, but if you do not show me a lease, you are not getting a Maryland drivers license or new tags. What is it that you do not understand about this? Now leave, and besides you also have to show  me a social security card. Until you can show me a formal signed lease—and it has to be the original, not a copy” — and can show me a social security card, no license. Now leave! And don’t even think about coming into this building without your social security card and a real lease.”

I sat there in stunned disbelief, then grabbed my cane and with hunched shoulders shuffled out the door toward my car, wallowing in self pity. But that did not last long. This is a declaration of war and I have a lot of weapons in my arsenal. Since this regrettable incident, I have meticulously studied the requirements on the DMV website and have learned that a social security card OR a 1099 social security tax statement is required–God only knows why–and I have one of those, plus I have had experiences like this before and plan to use my “I want to see your supervisor” routine, which if you keep demanding supervisors as you work your way up the corporate or governmental  ladder always gets results. Who knows, I might even get to the Governor of Maryland, who seems like a really nice guy.

So my next step is to arm myself  with the vast Collington  Residency and Care Agreement and enter the DMV prepared to fight to the finish. I am confident that I will eventually prevail. I will keep you posted.

 I know that some of you are asking the question, what is it about Joe Howell, that these kinds of things always tend to happen to him.

 I can only reply asking the same question, “Why Me, Oh Lord?”

To be continued….

 

 

Responding to complaints, I have changed the title of this series. The “Final Chapter” title had merit but was too heavy, and besides I will be interspersing life at Collington posts with other material, given the existential crisis our country is facing.

When  people have asked me what makes Collington different from other senior living communities, I have cited several things—that it has a beautiful campus including cottages, “villas,” and apartments, surrounded by a forest, yet is less than two miles away from a Metro station which provides 30-minute access to downtown DC, that it is one of the early non profit CCRCs with a long history of providing three levels of senior living including high quality supportive care for those who need it, that it has a strong value system stressing inclusion, that it is now a Kendal affiliate, and that there are a lot of interesting people who live here. And compared to many CCRCs in the area, it is more affordable and, in my opinion, a better value than most other options. Another reason that Embry and I  chose Collington, of course,  was that I did the initial market research and financial feasibility study for the proposed community and spent six years on the board (as treasurer) during a period of challenges in the early 2000s.

But that is not all. There is something else which I will call “the Collington Soul.”

Every week Collington puts out a calendar with the schedule for the week. There are all sorts of things to do every day—committee meetings, occasional concerts, Monday night movie, trips to the grocery store and museums and events downtown, all sorts of health activities, and various other gatherings. This past Friday afternoon there was a listing for “Game Day” in the auditorium. Since I am not much of an enthusiast for games, I thought I would give it a pass; but shortly after the 2:00 PM starting time, I decided I would wander down to the community center and peep in. When I opened the door, the large room was full of people mulling about, with soul and pop music blasting away, and one of the Collington food service staff was singing to a  karaoke song  on the stage in front of a huge high-def screen showing the words. It felt like I was at a carnival. All types of games were going on—corn hole, block building, bean bag tossing, tabletop bowling, and a whole bunch of other activities that were accessible to old folks.  There was a booth serving popcorn, another serving drinks, and another cotton candy—all free. But what made the event special was that the Collington staff were joyfully participating alongside the residents. Some were directing the games and others participating in them. Ann Gillespie, Collington’s CEO, was in the middle of it all, wandering about and encouraging participants. And the residents were mostly from the Creighton Center, Collington’s assisted living and memory care community. Of course, the staff were almost all people of color, mostly in their 20s and 30s, and most of the residents were old white folks in wheelchairs or using walkers. There were high fives, smiles, and hugs going around between and among staff and residents. Several of the staff were spectacular Karaoke singers and fabulous dancers, and the Collington workers seemed to be having as much fun as the residents—maybe even more. There were also a bunch of independent living residents like me there as well, observing and participating, and everyone was smiling. I only stayed about an hour, but that hour was precious and for a moment anyway seemed to bridge the barriers of race, class and age.

Who knows? Maybe events like this happen at other senior living communities. That it happened at Collington, however, is what counts for me. Bravo! Kudos to the staff and all those who made it happen. I understand that this was the first “game day” at Collington though Collington has had similar events in the past. I hope there will be more to follow. These kinds of activities are what illustrate what I call “the soul of Collington.”

 

Embry and I have always been city people, and I have what could be described as a “woke” superiority complex regarding the suburbs. I admit that this sounds like a snobbish prejudice and fess up to being the kind of person MAGAs can’t stand. You can blame my master’s studies at the UNC City Planning School for some of this, but part of it is admittedly old fashioned snobbery. Well, at Collington we now live in the suburbs. You wouldn’t know it because the beautiful campus is surrounded by a forest, preventing any view of suburban living. But when leaving the security gate at Collington you find you are in the middle of it—attractively designed homes but also very close to a gigantic shopping center with several big box stores.

Including a Costco.

Costco is only a five minute’s drive away. Now, I have never spent a dime at Costco and have only been in one of these massive stores two or three times. I remember being impressed by the tons of merchandise people were purchasing. You see people walking out of the store with 25 rolls of toilet paper, ten packages of 12 ounce water bottles, 30 rolls of paper towels, piles of other stuff that often require more than one huge grocery cart. Not for me. But if you know Embry, she is always looking for a bargain and the prices at Costco are cheap. She can’t help it. It is in her Calvinist, Presbyterian DNA. So, Embry joined Costco and has shopped there a few times. When I pointed out that we really didn’t need so many of this or that, she agreed but confessed that she couldn’t resist the low prices.

This week Embry went to Costco and ordered a huge birthday cake for a special occasion on Sunday at All Souls Episcopal Church—our rector’s birthday. The cake was to be a surprise and the centerpiece of what surely would be a splendid show of appreciation for the great job Mother Sara is doing. Saturday the cake was ready to be picked up; and since Embry had plans to go to a concert with friends, she asked me to pick up the cake at Costco’s and bring it to the church late in the day so that she could prepare for the surprise party on Sunday. I drove Embry to the Metro station only about 1.5 miles away and headed to Costco. The huge parking lot was jammed with cars, but I eventually found a space and joined a line of eager shoppers chomping at the bit to get in. Embry had given me her Costco card, which I scanned into a device at the door and headed toward the bakery. Before I could take more than a step or two, a tiny, older woman wearing a Costco red apron stepped in front of me and said, “I am sorry, but you can’t enter the building. This is your wife’s card.”

I replied that I understood that it was my wife’s card and that I was picking up a huge cake that she had ordered because she had a conflict. She needed the cake Saturday afternoon and had no way of getting to Costco, so I was helping her. I then took a step in the direction of the bakery about a half mile away at the back of the store.

The clerk stepped in front of me again.

“Oh, no you aren’t. This is your wife’s card, not yours. She has to be here. You can’t get in without her being with you unless you have your own card.”

“Excuse me,” I replied in a bewildered tone, “My wife has spent a fortune on this cake for a surprise birthday party and I have to bring it to her today. She is not available to pick it up, so I am helping her. You are telling me I am not even allowed to enter the store?”

The line behind me was starting to get edgy. One person shouted, “Stand aside, let us in! You are holding up the line!” Some big guy shouted, “Move it, old man!”

The Costco clerk guarding the gate asked me to move aside and allowed the eager shoppers to start scanning their Costco cards as they charged off into the vast space packed with people pushing carts loaded with food and merchandise. I explained to her the situation—that I had hardly ever been to a Costco store and did not know the rules and repeated the reason I was there.

With a sympathetic look, she replied, “Sorry, sir, no exceptions. I would like to help you, but these are the rules.”

“Just so I understand,” I replied in a disgusted voice, “No one is allowed to even enter a Costco store if they have not purchased a Costco card, and if you are a spouse of a card holder, that does not make any difference?”

“Exactly. No exceptions for any reason.”

When I demanded to see her supervisor, she shrugged her shoulders and shuffled off, cautioning, “Do not try to leave this spot. You could be in for real trouble.”

She asked another Costco lady in a red apron to take her place as guardian of the gate and returned a few minutes later with her supervisor, another woman, slightly younger. I told her my sad story and how desperate I was. She scowled, looked me over, sighed, shook her head in disgust, and allowed me to enter the store with the parting words, “Never, never try to do this again!”

I thanked her, grabbed one of the huge shopping carts and charged off toward the other end of the store, weaving through the isles packed with people pushing carts overflowing with bundles of toilet paper and other merchandise, passed by the counter selling pianos, the section selling giant TVs, some  so big I concluded  they would have to be hung on the side of a barn, giant bins of vegetables, some guy doing magic tricks in a section selling child’s toys, and finally reached the bakery. I told the clerk I was picking up a cake for “Howell” and observed a dozen or so carts stacked with giant birthday cakes waiting to be picked up, all looking exactly alike. Eventually she found the one marked “Howell” and off I charged with the cake to the checkout counter. There were a least a dozen people ahead of me in line with carts stacked high with merchandise, so I headed to the self-checkout area where there were few people and one young man standing around wearing a red apron. When I asked him for help, he asked for my Costco card.

“I am sorry,” he replied, staring at the card, “You can’t buy this cake. Your wife has to buy it. The card is in her name.”

“Pardon me,” I replied, “I have already been through this drill, and they finally let me in the store and now you are telling me that you won’t let me buy the cake and take it home?  The cake cost a fortune, and this is money going to Costco. The cake has a name on it that no one else can use. Are these people nuts? I have to have the cake today. There is no other option. This is for a surprise birthday party.”

I considered feigning a heart attack.

There was a long pause as the young man looked me over. When he realized I was at the point of tears, he looked over his shoulder to see if any Costco employee was watching. “Don’t tell anyone I helped you, ok? I will be in real trouble.”

I handed him my credit card, which was a Master Card, because earlier in the week I had gotten a call from my bank that someone was using my card number to buy questionable, expensive gifts online and had to cancel the card.

“I am sorry. Costco only takes Visa cards. You will have to return the cake.”

I told myself that this could not be happening.

I frantically pulled out my wallet and pulled out all my cards, desperately thumbing through them and pulled out a bank debit card, which miraculously had a Visa marking on it.

“Will this work?” I asked, holding my breath.

He scrutinized the card then nodded, put the card through and wished me a good day, warning me not to try a stunt like this again.

“Don’t worry,” I replied.

Only in America, I thought.

It has been well over a month since my last post and since we moved into our new digs at Collington.  A lot has happened during this time. Trump has shown his cards as to who he really is and what he wants. He is an obsessed, egotistical nutcase, who is well on the road to becoming a dictator, upsetting world economies and the post-World War II world order, and making life for so many people miserable. But you already know this, and this post is not about Trump.

I am BAAACK! And this post is about our move.

 What is Collington like for us? What about our experience so far?

Here are some first impressions:

1. The moving experience takes a toll. Moving is hard at any age but especially for old folks. In our case Collington required us—and I suspect everyone–to use a moving manager, which made all the difference. There is no way we could have pulled this off without the help of a firm that managed the entire process—Town and Country in our case—and they did a terrific job including hanging all our photographs and artwork. I think one of the factors which keeps people our age from moving is the challenge of downsizing—especially if the move is from a single family home. We had already downsized about ten years ago when we moved from our Cleveland Park, single family home to the Kennedy-Warren Apartments a few blocks away, but we still had to get rid of a bunch of stuff, and the experience wore us out. This is another reason for people our age to make the decision to move before the challenge becomes too great.  My main excuse for not blogging is that the moving experience has been exhausting and stressful and has taken a toll, but finally I am  recovered enough to get the blogging going again. When I talk to other residents about the stress of moving, most say something like, “Welcome to the club….”

2. The campus is gorgeous. There is no senior living community in the Washington metro area that comes close to the bucolic feel of Collington. It did not hurt that we moved in during the early spring with cherry blossoms and dogwoods in full bloom. But still where else in the Washington area–or practically anywhere else–will you find a community surrounded by towering trees, with meadows, landscaped courtyards, a small lake and three miles of walking and hiking trails—and still close to the downtown of a major metro area? (The Metro station is about a mile and a half away, and the trip to Metro Center takes about 30 minutes.) You won’t, and that is one of the main reasons we chose Collington. We have not been disappointed. I look out my home office window onto a large meadow surrounded by cottages linked by covered walkways. The cottages all have space for small gardens, most of which are beautiful. On the other side of the meadow are more cottages, most with patios and some with screened porches and sunrooms. Behind them is the perimeter road which surrounds the development on the campus and provides access to the community center with a large dining area, auditorium, library, bistro, bar, and meeting rooms. The apartments, the health care center, indoor swimming/lap pool and fitness center are adjacent. A small lake, home to a flock of Canada Geese, is behind the community building and apartments. On the other side of the perimeter road is the forest. There is no hint of any other development that is beyond the dense trees, so you have the feeling you are in some kind of Garden of Eden. Embry and I are city people, having lived some 50 plus years in a wonderful urban neighborhood near the zoo, so this is a change for us. Embry says she never envisioned living in a suburban neighborhood, but this feels like something different—a kind of fairy land. Of course, suburban neighborhoods are close by even though you can’t see them from the Collington campus. These neighborhoods are beautifully designed, high end neighborhoods with expensive homes. The residents are almost all African Americans, which in my view is a good thing, but I still bemoan the fact that so many of our neighborhoods in the U.S. remain segregated by race.

3. We love our cottage. Our cottage is perfect for us— about 1,400 sf and just a tad smaller than our Washington apartment—two bedrooms, two bathrooms, smallish kitchen, living room, den, sunroom, and outdoor patio looking out onto a large open area across from other cottages and a view of the surrounding woods. Our front door opens onto a beautifully landscaped grassy courtyard surrounded by other cottages in our cluster of 14 units. A covered walkway connects the cottages and provides covered access to the community center, about a five-minute walk away. In 1981 when I did the market analysis and feasibility study for the property, the concept of continuing care retirement communities was still in its infancy with not many CCRC’s on the East Coast. Since most of these communities were in the Philadelphia metro area, I spent a good bit of time visiting the CCRCs in Philadelphia, and I recommended that the design should be similar to that of Kendal at Longwood, a continuing care retirement community in the Philadelphia suburbs. The community which got built looks a lot like Kendal at Longwood. In the early 2000s Collington affiliated with the Kendal Corporation, an offshoot of the original Kendal community in the Philadelphia area. Full circle, as they say.
4. You feel a bit like a freshman entering college. Can you remember your first few weeks in college when you did not know anyone and all those who were in higher grades seemed well adjusted and you felt lost? The saving grace for college freshman is that since all the other freshmen classmates are just as lost as you are, you usually find other confused and lost people to bond with. And before too long you begin to make friends with those who are older and wiser and settle in. The main difference is that when you are a newbie at a senior living community, you probably are the only one moving in at the same time you are. So, yes, you feel a bit lost. For Embry and me the confusion and feeling of being lost has been softened by the friendliness of residents at Collington. Everyone nods and smiles and says hello. No exceptions as far as I can tell, at least not yet, and this makes a huge difference. And Collington has a system in place for easing the adjustment. We were assigned an “ambassador,” a very kind couple a tad older than us who have lived in our “cluster” of cottages for many years and whose job as an ambassador is to make us feel at home and welcomed. They have hosted us to dinner in the Collington dining room and introduced us to many of their friends. The week we arrived and after we got settled, our “cottage cluster” had one of its monthly pre-dinner socializing events, and we volunteered to host the group, which enabled us to meet most of the people living around us and show off our new home. That was a fun event though remembering names and keeping people straight will continue to be a challenge for a while. There will be a dinner next week for new residents, which happens on a regular basis depending on the number of move ins. That every resident has gone through the same experience we are going through I think makes people more understanding and supportive of newbies like us.
5. There are two generations of old folks living on the campus. Because of the large number of cottages (around 200, including a few even larger “villa” units), Collington has tended to appeal to a slightly younger population than most CCRCs. Average age for new residents is a little over 75 instead of the early 80s as is the case nationally, and there are more couples, around a third of all households. So, the age mix begins in the 70s and extends well up into the nineties, many of whom have lived here for well over a decade. That means you have “younger” seniors mixing with people who are old enough to be their parents. That also means you also see people using canes or walkers and some using electric wheelchairs. Before we moved, I remember being asked by some friends my age why I would consider moving into a community with a bunch of old folks. My reply was that at age 83 I am now an “old folk” (and like many here at Collington have started using a walking stick myself on longer walks). We old folks living here at Collington and other senior living communities are the survivors. But the experience of living with other people, some older and frailer than us, is also a reminder that we humans on the planet Earth do not live forever and the final checking out process is often messy and hard to navigate. That is the main reason cited by most of people I have talked to when I ask the question of why they chose a CCRC –the availability of health care and supportive services when that time comes.

But make no mistake: Collington is not a place where people come to die but rather to live life to the fullest, given the limitations associated with aging. Squeezing the last few drops out of the lemon, as I often say.

Stay tuned. More to come…