Old Friends Home – Part 2: The Practicalities

Last posting I broached a topic near and dear to my heart. The thought of spending our last days surrounded by friends who knew and cared about us in a setting called Old Friends Home. Anything would be better than being chucked into an impersonal nursing home paying exorbitant prices.

I believe we yearn for community, it’s in our blood and bones. Throughout the ages we’ve been banding together for comfort, safety and survival. It’s only been in the last nanosecond of evolution that the tribe narrowed down to the family unit and even more recently that the individual has muscled it’s way to the fore. But ultimately that is more of an empty existence than a fulfilling one. It is in the group setting that we reach our full potential for living and dying.

There are still lots of logistics to work out. Luckily there are lots of wonderful possibilities to explore as well.

I’ve already mentioned that collectively purchasing a property is my ideal, but property ownership is always a delicate issue. Perhaps what’s needed is a collective bargain to let all live out their days on the land, and a clause to temporarily prevent heirs from claiming the property in probate so that no one gets booted out. Eventually it would have to pass to someone. (Yeah, everyone will die at some point.) But perhaps when the last one goes, the land could be sold and the proceeds split by the heirs, or whomever we designate.

I haven’t worked out yet how the last one or two people would afford to live there if they outlive their savings and social security has dried up. In a truly altruistic world, maybe it could be mortgaged to pay for the last few remaining friends. Any proceeds for the sale of the land after the last one goes could then be passed to the heirs. Maybe by then there will be some sort of Medicare or State agency that recognizes that funding small collectives like this is cheaper than expensive corporate nursing homes. Where I am in California there is the In House Support Services program that pays an hourly wage to caregivers of the handicapped, a situation like I am in now, where my roommate does all the house chores, cooks and helps me do things and gets paid for it. The agency thinks it’s cheaper to do that then put me in home, and they’re right. And I am much happier this way, too. I get to stay at home.

Early hospice care by St. Bernard in the Alps.

This dream has percolated in me for a long time now. One day, reflecting on the fact that this is California and long ago my sister started a non-profit “church” here, composed of psychic healers (now long defunct since she found Jesus) it occurred to me that maybe it would work to declare Old Friends Home a religious order so as to permit multiple families and dwellings on communal land. Can’t you see the hilarity that would ensue? The bulletin board plastered with notices: “Sister Kim invites you to a game of Cranium in the common room tonight at 7:30!” “Morning Matins for all the gardeners on Sunday as it is the New Moon in Scorpio and planting seeds are on the agenda.” “A guest teacher will be leading Tai Chi on the Big House lawn for Vespers.” Wouldn’t that be a hoot? But seriously, as my niece Brooke pointed out, from the time the early Christian church was established, they lived and shared together and no one was with need. I would add that these same orders provided free medical, hospice and traveler aid. So the idea isn’t all that far-fetched.

I know there have been a few Womyn’s Lands that have dealt with community living in various ways. It is an interesting prospect, creating a functioning village out of a group of friends. I believe Old Friends Home would survive better than Utopian enclaves or hippy communes due to a deeper commitment because it is designed as a final harbor, the last port in which our lifeboat will rest. There’s no where else to go but inward, sitting back and enjoying life as best you can with your favorite cronies around.

There is another aspect I’ve contemplated. What if we drive each other nuts? I’m banking on the fact that as old friends, we know each other’s quirks and also have mellowed out with age, but there is an interesting practice I came across awhile back when I was staying in a large share house in Melbourne, Australia. There was a meeting called once a month when necessary information was exchanged. Then we were all invited to honestly air any thing that was starting to bug us about anything going down in the house. The theory was that by letting annoyances out right away in a group situation where all could facilitate and work through the problem then what ever was wrong wouldn’t fester until it exploded in a horrible manner. Brilliant! And for the most part it really worked.

Subscribe to a veggie co-op after the garden gets to be too much work.

Besides, it doesn’t really need to happen until we’re at the stage where loneliness, down-sizing and beginning to need assisted care is kicking in, so everyone would be pulled together by desire and necessity and more open to getting along. But perhaps a charter might be good to draw up outlining the structure of making a functioning group. Maybe it could work as the United Nations, where a different member takes turns being the Grand Pooh-Bah. Someone who takes the lead in the direction the group could to go, like deciding to become recipients of an organic farm produce box once a week. Democratically voted on, of course. At least until we’re all gaga, then the one with the most brain cells left wins President for Life! Perhaps I’m over-thinking this. I see older people reach a stage where they are over the angst of living and come to a “whatever” attitude. That is what I mean by mellowing out.

My dream is not the only way this Old Friends Home could happen. A smaller group home, taking over a small quadplex apartment building, or adapting any existing, small property would do. Any place that gives everyone some privacy, some community, and close enough together to pool ones resources to hire help and then nursing as the need arises. Finances would have to be assessed to see what could be afforded.

Regardless how it’s done, that’s where I want to live. No back room hallway for me, baby. Let me spend my final days around faces I recognize, and even if I don’t remember them, I am comforted now knowing that they’d care about me anyway and I’d be well pampered and in surroundings that are familiar and nurturing, with fresh flowers from the garden by my bedside. Ones I may have even planted myself when I was able. As for now, let me plant this seed in your mind. Let it grow and spread to your best buddies. This dream may not happen for me, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen for you and others. My recently departed friend, Fran, had a final request to her circle: Take care of each other. She is so right.

I Want to Live at Old Friends Home – Part 1

My mom has always insisted she will “pop off” before having to think about a nursing home. I sympathize with her perception of them, hope she’s right, and dread the drama that will ensue if we have no choice but to put her in one. She’s 91 and her generation saw the rise of nursing “homes,” impersonal facilities where the elderly are looked after by strangers. It was an improvement for the poor and alone, but not the best it could be.

There are the stories of neglect and related horrors. We toss our elders in the midst of other residents who know nothing about them, share no history, and could care less about them. Then there’s the staff, which on average are less than stellar, the non-skilled attendants are lowly educated, and there’s always a few that are just interested in a paycheck and don’t have the compassion needed to care for others. The skilled staff might be good, but there are many instances bordering on elder abuse and most management is only concerned with minimum care and maximum profits. My sincere apologies to the un-sung heroes that really do care, but it’s the ones that don’t that scare the hell out of me. It is not unheard of to diaper and dope up “difficult” patients to make them docile, tie them down to a wheelchair and stick them drooling in a back hallway for the day. Especially the ones who have no one visiting them, or ones that get predictable visiting times that the staff can work around. Harsh? These anecdotes are from friends who have worked in these places. The worst are the ones run by Medicare where people who can’t afford private nursing care are dumped. The expensive places are nowhere near this bad, but who can pay $80,000 a year for that level of care? Yes, you read that right. The national average is $68,000. The best places (or living in Alaska) can run $100,000 a year. I’m painting a bleak picture, but it’s one that reflects the genre.

Click on image for a state-by-state breakdown of costs and other useful info

Now people are living longer and many are faced with parents that don’t technically qualify for nursing care but aren’t able to live alone. We have the recent option of assisted living centers. States vary but a general rule is that assisted living costs half what your area charges for nursing homes. If you are lucky enough to live in Missouri or a small handful of southern states you might get away with an average of $14,000 a year for assisted living. If you are stuck in Wyoming you’ll fork out $40,000 a year. If you have savings, it’s usually gone very quickly.

In our consumer-driven, expensive world most families need to have both adults working to stay afloat. They have no choice but to send the kids to daycare and elderly away unless one adult stays home, severely reducing their income and expectations of safe neighborhoods and comfortable living. With the economy teetering and services and goods expensive as ever, many have to rethink what to do with aging parents and most have to bring them back into the fold. This doesn’t always make all the parties involved very happy. Eventually we begin to question our future too. What will my amble down the road to nursing care look like? But I don’t despair. In the words of the beloved Martin Luther King, Jr. – I have a dream.

Someone once said that friends are our chosen families and this rings true. So wouldn’t it be nice to grow old surrounded by friends? Some of them might be your sisters or brothers or other family members, but I’ll bet mostly it would be a small circle of friends with whom we’ve shared experiences or lifestyles and developed a rich, textured relationship.

WHAT IF a few already close friends, say from three to a dozen, created an Old Friends Home?  Buy a nice bit of property somewhere enjoyable, and close enough to services, stores and medical care, but rural enough to be beautiful.

WHAT IF these friends then built themselves smaller, self-contained bungalows far enough apart for privacy, arranged around a kitchen garden and maybe a pond? Hell, throw in a hot tub, too. Those able to garden could grow veggies and flowers to grace our tables.

Start with a dream

WHAT IF it had one largish house with a meeting space and common rooms for all, a communal kitchen for get togethers, and enough ground floor bedrooms for guests and then later converted to nursing care rooms?

WHAT IF as we age and need more constant, personal care, we pool our resources together and bring in an able-bodied caregiver? Another handy-person who could help with chores, gardening, maintenance?

WHAT IF we make it possible to move out of your bungalow and into one of the rooms in the house if even more care is needed and hire a registered nurse to live on-site? By now, a cook and housekeeper would probably be required, but since we are pooling our resources, this is doable, especially if these people are offered a rent-free situation, like occupying your recently vacated bungalow. There’s also the added advantage of choosing them ourselves. Social services, doctors and other technicians would be on-call just like many nursing homes and hospices are now.

This idea excites the hell out of me. It sounds cheaper and way more enjoyable than the alternatives. Taking care of each other is probably the highest calling in life. Knowing that I’d be in the company of people who have known me awhile and share my outlook on life, who care about me as I care about them? It’s a no-brainer. Why aren’t Old Friends Homes cropping up everywhere?

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