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The moment Jean Goldstein stepped into the elevator of her new home, she wondered if she'd made a big mistake.
A practical woman with a streak of whimsy and a dry sense of humour, she'd always cherished her independence, even as she celebrated her 85th birthday. But her husband's heart problems had her dialling 911 every time he felt a twinge in his chest, and living on their own just became too stressful.
So she persuaded Milton to move to the Terraces of Baycrest, a retirement home in north Toronto. Their children helped them settle into their sunny 7th-floor apartment.
At one time, only the physically fit were admitted to the Terraces. Now the able-bodied, such as Jean Goldstein, who hits the pool a few times a week, mingle with residents using walkers or wheelchairs. (Kevin Van Paassen/The Globe and Mail)
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All was going well and then, ding – she walked into the elevator. Mrs. Goldstein looked at the crowd of people using walkers and wheelchairs, people who looked much older than she felt – and panicked.
“What am I doing here?” she thought.
Canada is getting older. The number of people aged 65 and up has more than doubled since the 1920s, according to Statistics Canada, and will double again in the next three decades. By 2031, one in four Canadians – an estimated 9.8 million – will be a senior, up from roughly one in 10 today. Life expectancy is steadily rising – it now tops 80 years – and medical advances are keeping people healthier for longer than ever before.
All of those people are going to need somewhere to live. In Ontario, industry experts say the province needs 80,000 new retirement home spaces over the next 20 years. The number of independent-living homes for seniors jumped 30 per cent last year in British Columbia. And Quebec developers broke ground on more than 900 retirement apartments last year.
Retirement homes offer a stepping stone for seniors like the Goldsteins, who want independence but also need a medical safety net, a compromise between living on their own and going to a nursing home.
That doesn't mean the choice is easy. Moving to a retirement home requires a huge adjustment. Not only do independent seniors have to redefine themselves as people who live in an “old folks' home,” they have to learn to navigate some unexpected social terrain.
When most people look at a retirement home, they see what Mrs. Goldstein saw in that elevator: disability, dullness and eventually death. At the Terraces of Baycrest, the average age is 88, the average hair colour is white, and the average pace is slow.
But there's a lot happening beneath that quiet surface. The residents are old, and many are frail, but they're not done growing, they're not done learning, and they're not done with the messy business of love and loneliness and rage and joy that defines the human experience.
Forget God's waiting room: Life in a retirement home is more like high school. There's gossip. Cliques. Flirting in the hallways. There's the worry about not fitting in, and the frustration over adults who just don't listen. You're the big man on campus if you can drive a car, and lunch is the main social event of the day.
Except that at this high school, nobody wants to graduate.
Freshman year
Most people at the Terraces say they made the decision to move here themselves – still, many struggle with sadness over their loss of independence, privacy and sense of self.
“The whole idea of a social environment, a community setting – they're not used to that, they're used to being in control of their own home,” says Heather Lisner-Kerbel, a Terraces social worker with 20 years' experience. “There's grieving over the loss of yourself, of who you were. We try to help them focus on what they can do.”
Seymour Hersch, a 77-year-old charmer with a weak heart, decided to move to the Terraces last winter, when his recovery from a heart attack coincided with noisy renovations at his apartment building. Living in a retirement home made him feel old at first, and he had to remind himself of the family motto he wears on a gold chain around his neck: “Live, laugh, love.”
“I thought I'd come in here, meet some nice women, start a relationship,” Mr. Hersch says. But it hasn't quite worked out that way. “Have you seen the women who live here?” he protests. “They're old!”
