337: ACROSS THE TABLES

So I volunteer a couple hours a week busing tables at a senior residence I call "The Ranch."

My 90 something year old neighbor moved into TR a year ago, after finding herself flat on the floor of her kitchen wondering what the heck happened.

She was cooking dinner in her small bungalow.

W is a widow, no children. However, back in the day, she and her husband sponsored a child from India and helped him complete his education. W and her husband never met their sponsored child, but they received regular photos and thank you letters.

W is always in a good mood, even though she has severe back problems. She has a bunch of loving nieces and nephews who visit her regularly. 

W was coaxed into downsizing to TR which is a fifteen minute walk from her former home.

I met W after dropping a flyer into her mailbox wanting to know if she needed help with her garden.

Yes she did, and thus we began a friendship that is still going strong. She still has my house key in case I lock myself out like I did on a snowy night last winter.

The building in which W now resides, was a long time coming.

Some local residents vehemently opposed having a senior home built in the area. Some of their reasons were:

*Seniors will make noise.

(That's right. Seniors never go to bed. They party like rock stars all night long, banging on drums, playing Alice Cooper, yodeling off their balconies at three a.m.)

*Seniors don't buy anything, so business will suffer.

(Yeah? You mean seniors never buy food, toys for children, themselves and grandchildren, gas for their cars, groceries?) They never need services such as mechanics, plumbers, podiatrists, hair salons, massage artists? I could go on.

*Seniors who can't afford to live in this area, should get the hockey stick out of here and find a cheap spot off-island.

(Oh so you mean those same seniors who paid school, work and property taxes, volunteered at local churches, in schools, at day care centers, you name it- those same seniors who built homes, raised children, and created businesses.. those people are not wanted now that they are a certain age?)

*Seniors will take up all the parking spots at the local pubs, grocery stores, art stores, etc.

This might come as a stunner, but most of the seniors in TR do not own cars. They bus it, or ride the TR van to run their errands.

There is enough parking underground and in the side lot of TR for every car owned by the residents with space to spare.

*"I walk my dog on the property where they want to build TR. I don't want to lose my dog walking area."

Not making this up.

After a long battle, petitions signed, doors knocked on, slammed, issues explained, meetings held, questions answered, TR was built.

A case of "the little guy won."

TR was built low, so that it would blend into the surrounding area. You have to know where it is, it's so neatly tucked into the side of another already built edifice.

Who moved into TR?

Autonomous seniors such as widows, singles, couples.

One resident is 98 years old.

I got curious about how a home such as TR operates, so I offered to help with lunch.

Not cooking lunch. We volunteers set tables, carry loaded meal trays for those who need help, and put dishes away after everyone has eaten. I work with another volunteer.

So this means we volunteers are in the belly of the beast, and will learn everything about what it's like to live in an ILR.

W managed her transition with a positive manner.

She is doing fine in her chosen two bedroom second floor front apartment.

All her furniture, except the dining room table fit into her new space.

She pays $1700 a month, which includes underground parking, wifi, heat, electricity and one meal a day.


There are one bedroom and bachelor apartments available for less money.

The only thing W doesn't have is a washer and dryer in her unit.

That's down the hall.

But there is bus service to downtown five minutes away and TR will soon have a van for taking residents shopping.

W got busy decorating her apartment. So far I haven't heard a single complaint from her.

I've been checking the lunch menu though, and it's not getting an A plus on some days, because it's catered from a local restaurant.

In other words, my mom, the master chef, would not be amused.

Today, it was mushroom soup, an egg roll with rice, or mushroom soup, an omelet, and some fried zucchini.

Jello or fresh strawberries for dessert.

The egg roll looked like something the neighbor's cat deposited in my garden. (I love cats, so I tolerate it.)

The rice looked like it was spray painted with tar.

The omelet looked like a hunk of insulation.

I didn't taste any of this, but my eyes are pretty sharp.

Lunch is at 12 noon, and if a resident is absent, their meal is kept for them to pick up later.

Activities so far?

Bingo
Knitting
Jigsaw puzzles 

Not much so far, but the place is just getting started.

More residents will bring more activities. 

Does everyone get along in TR lunch room?

So far, everything seems tickety boo.

Some residents show up, get their food on a tray and disappear back to their rooms.

A new resident walked in last week and when we introduced ourselves as volunteers, she proclaimed we will rarely see her, as she is a very private person and doesn't like small talk, or sitting around a lunch table with strangers.

She said her son made her move into TR.

I overheard a male resident tell his table mates that his computer cost $8,000 dollars.

He says he is a psychologist.

W later told me she has his number.

She asked him what university he attended.

"Oh, I didn't go to university. I taught myself how to analyze people."

W is giving that dude a wide berth.

"I don't believe a word he says."

W wasn't born yesterday.

I wish W still had her house.

I want a rewind.


"And what's it for, that little empty garden by the brownstone door?"

(Elton John, Empty Garden)