No one wants to go to a nursing home, and that includes me. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but there are options. I’m talking about retirement communities.

Three years ago my husband was out in the garden on a lovely May afternoon. He was working in his tomato patch — doing the thing he most loved to do. As I stood there watching him, he turned, tripped and fell hard on the cement patio. The paramedics arrived quickly and took him to the hospital emergency room.

He had a broken hip and a broken shoulder. He was 89 years old. The doctors recommended surgery, and they were able to repair his hip. His shoulder would have to wait, but the hip operation was successful. He spent his allotted Medicare time in the hospital where he had some therapy. Then he was transferred to a rehab hospital. There, too, he spent the allotted time in more intense rehab, but again his progress was not sufficient to stay. His next move was to a nursing home.

When I learned that he had to be moved to a nursing home, I had to find one and also wait till a bed was available. After intense searching and discussions with my children, we found a spot in a home close by. He stayed there until he died in February, a week before his 90th birthday.

Alex didn’t have an option. His insurance had run out. He required constant care. He never walked again. The nursing home was a place where he was reasonably well cared for and where the employees and staff were truly dedicated.

After Alex died and I went back to the little house I loved, I faced life alone for the first time. And I was lonely. I couldn’t take care of the yard like Alex did. The large oak tree in the back patio shed bushels of leaves in the fall, and I didn’t have the strength to rake and bag them. Those leaves filled and clogged my gutters. The branches hung low and needed trimming. The car stood in the driveway all dusty, not shiny like it always was when Alex was there. There was no one to talk to.

Living alone

After a few weeks at home I began to return to my usual routines. I went to church as we always did, but it wasn’t the same with an empty space beside me. I volunteered at the library as I used to and that was still OK. It was the things we did together that made me blue. We always went out for breakfast on Sunday morning, and I missed that. It also was hard to fill those many hours I’d spent visiting at the nursing home. When you’re in the mode of caring for someone, you tend to need to continue. I actually thought about getting a cat.

During the time that Alex was sick, I had a problem with a leg that was very painful. The time came when the pain became unbearable. I went through several tests and was finally diagnosed with spinal stinosis, a shrinkage of the spine. Alex died in February. I had spinal surgery in August. After a four-day stay in the hospital I had the choice of going home where someone would have to be with me or going to a nursing home for rehab.

I have seven incredible children who live all over the country. They all agreed to take turns coming to town to stay with me for several days at a time, and it took all of them to get the job done. That really helped in my recovery. I walked with a walker, then with a cane. I was able to drive again, and the pain was gone, but I was still depressed. It was so neat to have each of the children there with me. When the last one left, I was feeling sorry for myself again.

Retirement community

One of my daughters, the only one who lives in town, casually mentioned a retirement community one day. “No way,” I thought, but she planted the seed. When one close to home had an open house, I thought I’d go look, but the weather was bad, and I stayed home. It still nagged a bit, so one day I just went over there out of curiosity. They gave me a book of plans and prices. The waiting list was a long one, probably a year, they told me. I thought about what to do, and it helped me take my mind off my troubles. Lots could happen in a year.

Now came the hard part. As I browsed through the brochure and looked at the prices I had second thoughts. How could I come up with that much money? My husband had lost his life insurance when the company he had retired from moved to the West Coast and changed owners. His insurance was the first thing to go. I had a pretty healthy IRA, but it had to last all my life, however long that would be. The interest rates had gone way down also. My Social Security income had decreased dramatically when my husband died. Foolish to consider it, I thought. But my daughter had another suggestion.

“Mother, you have at least a year to do this. Let’s put your house up for sale and test the water. We’ll just put up a sign and sell it ourselves. We don’t even need a Realtor.”

“But what if it sells soon? Where will I live if it really does sell quickly?”

“We’ve got room. You can move in with us temporarily.”

Two moves in a year sounded dreadful to me, but what the heck. I wouldn’t get enough money for my little house. I thought it might be interesting. So the sign went up in my front yard. “For sale by owner.” It was becoming an adventure.

I was really shocked at the price we were asking. I was even more astounded at the number of people who came through my house. It was in good condition and the kids came again and did a little painting and tidied things up.

My daughter held a few open houses and showed the place by appointment. She usually scooted me out to show it. In about six weeks my house was sold for the six-figure asking price.

Now I had to downsize from a five-room house with basement to a one-bedroom apartment.

The next challenge was an emotional one and one the children tackled again. All the things that my husband had stored in the basement and shed had to be disposed of. It was most difficult to go through those things that had memories but no useful purpose. The kids came in pairs for this assignment, and I was once again requested to leave. Furniture and boxes disappeared and I asked no questions. Soon that gaping space that I visited mostly to do the laundry was standing empty. I felt a pang or two, but it was all right.

Happy at home

Early in December of 2001 I moved to my apartment. It was small, but I had a nice view. I had many of the things I loved, and I knew other things had a safe spot in my children’s homes.

I can’t say it was easy, and it would have been almost impossible without the children. Without them I would have lost heart. And it was mostly because of them that I came here. I’m situated here for life. I chose my spot when I had my faculties. They won’t have to struggle with “Where shall we put Mom?” They won’t have to come thousands of miles to take care of me if I’m ill. When they come it will be for fun.

There’s plenty to keep me busy, and if the time comes for a nursing home, I will go to the facility right here on campus. And I’ll still be home.

If Alex had lived, I probably wouldn’t have considered a retirement community. But knowing what I know now, I would have been very interested. I envy the many couples who live here. It is wrenching to give up your home and sometimes much of your accumulation of things. Someone will have to do it someday. Why not do it yourself now? You will possibly move out of your neighborhood and leave your friends. That is difficult, too. But life is a trade off. I changed my parish church, but now I can walk to church. Other people ride buses to their own churches. I worry about not being able to drive. There are buses available to take people to malls, grocery stores, outings, even occasionally to the casinos. You acquire a routine.

It’s a good idea to check out the amenities. I miss having a swimming pool on the premises, but some places have one. Here there is a woodworking shop (I was surprised to see how many men and women use it) and people can have a community garden or if they live in a cottage they can garden in their own back yard. You could find a place on a golf course if you tried.

Couples can eat together, alone, or with others. So can I, and I don’t have to cook or do the dishes. Best of all, I don’t have to stay in my room and eat alone.

Trips are available, and your home is safe while you’re gone. There are many programs right here in the building, some very good, some mediocre. But if it’s off-campus, I can ride the bus to movies, dinner theater and concerts. It’s a good way to retire, and you can still keep as busy as you like by being a volunteer.

I am mighty happy to be here. I have made new friends and kept some old ones. The days go flying by, and I do the things I want to do. Sometimes it’s nothing at all. That’s OK too.

The prime reason I came here was for the lifetime-care guarantee. Nobody wants to go to a nursing home, but if my mind or health requires lifetime care, I’ll just go down another hall and move to the health center, where my bed has been waiting and I’ll be home.