Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Abandoning the Castle

We have all seen the syndrome in our parents' generation, the inability to leave the home they lived in for so many years. There are many good reasons for this, of course, and I am sympathetic; more so since I have reached the age where these decisions must be made, to leave with control or to stay and take your chances. Either way, there are hurdles.

Of course, not everyone has the choice to leave, at least voluntarily, before they carry you out on the door. But most of us middle-class types do. Should we downsize while we are still capable of doing it? Perhaps our home is small and single-storied and in a nice neighborhood; perhaps it is already without too many steps to climb or old ceilings and electrical outlets that need attention; perhaps it is ideal and the best bet is to stay and get whatever services you might need as time goes along.

But what if it has lots of steps, bedroom on the third floor, laundry in the basement, so much space that one room or another needs maintenance on a continuing basis? And what if those rooms are all filled to the top with stuff, stuff you have been putting lovingly in place for years?

First to consider is attachment - the caress of memory at everything your lay your eyes on: this was a gift from the first grandchild, your daughter made that in first grade, you bought that before you were married. . . these moments of sighing satisfaction are not easily given up.

Second, there is fear of change - who knows what a new place would be like: whether in a retirement community or a smaller house, you will not know that place like the back of your hand and as for the neighbors!! OMG!!! What might you be letting yourself in for?

Finally, there is the simple overwhelming nature of a project so large as to sort and move a lifetime's collection - no matter who tells you they will help and if you can afford to have someone else pack it all up, you have to sort it yourself because IT ALL WON'T FIT IN THE NEW PLACE. I particularly sympathize with this problem, because if I were to move, I could not take half of what I have. And all the boxes and file drawers and closets that are mixed full of detritus and treasure would have to be culled one by one, assigned to the flames or saved for a new, probably very small closet. And don't kid yourself that your children and their spouses will be lined up to get any of it. They don't want your stuff either.

In addition to these commonly discussed roadblocks to change, I see, more often but not always in the men, that this change means not just the loss of a house, but the loss of a dream; that they worked their whole lives to create this space and they are not only house-proud, their egos are bound to it. If this is the case, moving anywhere else is the last thing they can consider, no matter how difficult the climbing or the fear of falling, no matter how frustrating the leaking pipes or the chipping paint, and no matter how extensive the paid services. The house represents their vision of themselves, their reward for a job well done, a safe haven after the storms of adulthood. This kind of attitude will cause resentment of whatever life changes cause a separation, be it medical or practical. The loss will leave an agenda.

For those of us who have anticipated this moment and placed themselves in appropriately supportive housing situations, Bravo for the foresight. For the rest of us, woe to those couples who disagree and their children as well - buckle up your seatbelts, the future is going to get rough.

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