A particularly thoughtful workshop participant once asked us two questions that stumped us: “How have you changed as a result of this experience? What have you learned about yourselves through this experience?”
Certainly we have changed, and we think we’ve changed for the better. In these reflections, now many years into our cooperative household, we seek to answer those questions. We hope that our “up close and personal” reflections will be useful to you.
It is surreal to think that we have been living in this lovely old house for these many years. It was such a leap of faith when we moved here . . . three strong women, so completely different from one another . . . sometimes I wonder what made us so sure it would work. I knew it would though, on a deep level, and I believe that Karen and Louise knew, too. On the surface it seemed outside the box, but we knew it was a small risk we were taking.
And we have been proven right. What a great choice we made in making this 70-year-old colonial our home. We have made it our own: wallpaper and paint in most rooms to update the look; hardwood floors refinished in a rich cherry; new and simpler window treatments to bring in the light. Almost all the gardens surrounding the house and backyard have been reworked and renewed. We all take such pleasure in caring for and maintaining our home.
My personal journey has been enriched by the experience of living here at Shadowlawn. I am proud of this lovely, funky, eclectic place, and I am comforted by the ambiance we have created. I love sitting by the living room fire in the winter, working or reading or just chatting with my “communards.” In winter we can be found down in the “rumpus room” watching movies. (Louise and I make it our mission to see all films nominated for Academy Awards before the ceremony – and Karen indulges us by joining when she can.)
In summertime the backyard, surrounded by gardens and mature trees, is like a cathedral where we find respite from the frenetic pace of our work lives. A familiar summer scene is Louise on a chaise in the backyard with an open book, napping.
Late nights often find us sitting at a table in the far reaches of the backyard, “the grotto,” enjoying a glass of wine. For some of our friends, a late night trip to the grotto is an anticipated treat.
The side porch is another outdoor refuge, where the spectacular climbing hydrangea embraces the space and creates a peaceful resting place (when the ubiquitous neighborhood power tools are finally quiet and the tinkling wind chimes can be heard). Summer meals on the side porch are particularly wonderful.
I especially enjoy those times when all three of us find ourselves in the same room, each with her laptop, e-mailing articles or ideas to the others. Often, we are in the garden room in summer or winter, as it looks out over the backyard surrounded by tall trees, lovely in any season.
Year ’round, there are birds at the feeders. Goldfinches, house finches, wrens and chickadees stop by for a treat, along with blue jays, cardinals and an occasional downy woodpecker. The juncos and mourning doves share the seeds on the ground with the squirrels. One year, the lighted deer lawn ornament named Harry David appeared in the backyard at Christmastime.
My third-floor suite is another favorite refuge. I love my perch at the top of the house, a private space where I can work in my office or relax or read in my bedroom. Our private spaces are part of the magic here – we knew that our house needed to provide us with the right mix of private and shared space.
A real surprise was realizing that if one is going to be at the house on Halloween after dark, one must be prepared to turn off the lights and watch some of the scariest, most nerve-wracking movies ever made, while waiting for the sweet costumed children to ring the doorbell. Although this contrast may seem incongruous, Louise considers this the appropriate genre for the occasion and we have not ever been able to skip this aspect of observing the day. To be honest, I have come to rather look forward to Halloween, sweet children and scary movies.
The relationships we have built with each other are a very important aspect of what works at Shadowlawn. Each of us has strengths and skills to share, and we offer them freely. Chores are shared with no need to write up a schedule. We are good friends and we have become sisters of the heart, completely trusting one another and accepting one another as we are, imperfect as that may be.
We don’t always agree, and sometimes one or more of us may not be completely happy with a joint decision, but we always knew there would be compromise in a communal living arrangement. And virtually all of those joint decisions turned out just fine.
My greatest concern was being able to assert myself with these two very powerful women – in my marriage I had learned this skill (perhaps this is why I ultimately divorced), but that didn’t seem to guarantee that I would be successful in a group of three. I generally can compromise and there could be no doubt that a cooperative household is all about compromise. However, there are times when one has to speak up and let her voice be heard and I have found that I am well able to do that when I have strong feelings.
Remember the example – the night when, preparing for our first Christmas in the house, Louise and Karen went to buy more tree lights and came back with the old-fashioned large bulbs that I do not like. I hadn’t been consulted and I made my feelings heard. When people ask us if we’ve ever had a “fight,” this experience with the Christmas lights is what first comes to mind.
After all the planning we did for this venture, even after jointly writing a Partnership Agreement, this was the first time we were quite consciously aware of the delicate balance that needs to be kept when collaborating on even seemingly minor decisions. This confirmed that I could hold my own; guess I didn’t really need to worry about that.
I am happy that each of us agrees that a house is not a home without a cat. Beardsley was the original cat-alyst who started this adventure into shared living; she could never be replaced, but she passed on her legacy to Kali (see below).
Shadowlawn has become my home, as well as my house. It is sometimes quite seductive; I often find it very easy to deny the reality of having to create my means of retirement. Our time here will be limited by our ability to manage it physically, mentally, and financially. It is interesting to consider that we originally talked about retiring together, but now the conversation is of communal living now, and retiring separately.
This is the right place to be right now. The future will unfold as it will, though I will do what I can to create and design it to my specifications. I can’t imagine not living in a shared living situation, especially as I get older.
Our living arrangement has been more than I hoped. True to expectation, we realized all of the convenience and financial benefits we planned for. Our estimate of monthly costs proved more than reasonable; we have had to increase our contribution only once, by $100 per month. With our budgeting, we have not only maintained but have improved our house and property. When the day finally comes to sell this place, we should find we have made a much better investment than our previous living arrangements, despite the difficult economic times.
The surprise to me is how our relationships have evolved. I’m sure you felt the tenuous tone of our first year. We all knew this would work; we all bent over backwards to make it work, but without giving up our own sense of self, without sacrificing our own needs, be they for privacy or family.
We have become more than friends – close to being family without the obligations. Rather like three sisters who get along, enjoy one another’s company, yet go their own ways.
Our family circles feel larger now. Some of Jean’s relatives have celebrated weddings here. Louise’s family has moved their Christmas from the traditional family home to our place. My family (nine of them) has stayed here all at once to celebrate our own Christmas. We have a wonderful sense of friendship and extended family, sometimes mixing all the groups.
I’ve learned much from my two housemates. I’ve learned how to better fulfill my own value of helping other people. I’ve learned that it’s okay not to be perfect, nor do things perfectly. On the lighter side, I’ve learned a bunch of tips for making life easier and conserving resources. One does not need to wash a blouse every time she wears it! It’s okay to use partially burned candles when guests come from dinner. And the rugs don’t need to be sent for cleaning every year.
On more serious matters, I’ve learned to be more attentive to and respectful of the views of other people. My family jokes that we grew up in a house where we learned we always were right – to the extreme! When I was a young teenager, my mother died and my father subsequently remarried. I “welcomed” my new step-mother by explaining to her how to properly fold the towels and put them in the linen closet. I think about that absurd rigidity every time I look at our common linen closet or at the messy heap of towels in my own bathroom. Life is better when one is less dogmatic, more flexible. Conversations are easier; friendships are deeper. Living in a cooperative household has greatly enhanced that learning about myself.
Annoyances? Not really. If anything, I get annoyed when we duplicate food we already have, or when a “helping” housemate interferes with something I’m doing – like someone closing the garage door when I’ve purposely left it up. But those are momentary annoyances of little import. Besides, I too duplicate food and help too much.
But I am not one for looking back. I look forward. Way forward. After all, I’m the one who started all of this by talking about a long-term plan for retirement. During the past few years, I have once again looked forward. And taken action. In keeping with my preference for a warmer climate, I’ve chosen my retirement spot – far away from Pittsburgh. That decision rocked the boat a bit at Shadowlawn, possibly because Jean and Louise were concerned about how soon the shift would occur.
The residence I chose for retirement is quite different from Shadowlawn. The choice of a condo is obvious for someone who will be approaching 70. Condos minimize the upkeep that will become progressively more challenging as I age. But many other factors went into the choice.
First of all, I chose a place with three bedrooms and two baths in a split design. The master bedroom and bath are at one end; the other two bedrooms and bath are at the other end. In between are lanai, living room, dining room, kitchen and a hallway. Both bedroom areas are as private as one can get in a condo. You’ve probably guessed my plan. My hope is that this spot, too, will be a shared housing arrangement. The benefits of Shadowlawn are too good to give up! The best of all worlds would be for Jean, Louise or both of them to join me for this next step in life.
Prior to selecting my location, I was fortunate to learn of Louis Tenenbaum’s work on Aging in Place. Tenenbaum is dedicated to a movement that will provide the infrastructure for individuals to remain in their environment of choice much longer and to stay healthier and happier than our current systems support. In his “MetLife Report on Aging in Place 2.0,” he sees two categories of infrastructure needed to support long-term, independent living.
1.Connections to the world outside the home: technology, community resources, and transportation and community infrastructure
2.Home design, devices and assistive technologies to reduce risk and facilitate wise and effective use of resources
I can’t single-handedly create transportation systems or community infrastructures. But I can and did select a location that optimizes my use of existing systems. My new place is walking distance from many activities I enjoy and is on a bus line that will take me anywhere I need to go. I also deliberately chose a place that requires renovation. That means I got it for a very reasonable price and can afford to design it for my specifications. When I renovate it, I will pay close attention to the advice from Aging in Place experts regarding supporting technology. For one, I’ll install bathroom amenities that make life easier and safer for older people.
So when will I retire? When will I move away from Shadowlawn, from this community? I will move when Jean and Louise are ready to take their next steps in life, as well. I believe in what we are doing; I love our relationships and our home; I won’t be the one to break it up. May I be so fortunate to have one or both of them join me in the next step of life.
For me, the biggest surprise about cooperative householding is how much easier it is than I had expected. In any living situation – family, spouse, friends – there are tradeoffs, pros and cons. But, nine years in, the benefits of cohouseholding vastly overshadow the tradeoffs.
Bottom line: I love where, how, and with whom I’m living. In this special house, the spirit of shared adventure makes every day feel new and fresh.
How much relates to the individual personalities versus the cohouseholding model? Who knows? I do know that life is richer and my experiences have been broadened. Because our work is shared, there are more flowers in the garden, better and more varied food, and many more social connections and events at the house than I would ever attempt alone. There is also warmth, love and laughter.
My brother, Art, wonders if our success is enhanced by the generous physical space of this house, and the commonalities in our professional training and backgrounds. I agree: that’s part of the equation. We were able to choose a house with lots of space – indeed, virtual suites – and our training in psychology, healthcare and behavioral science helps us recognize and deal with the dynamics of interpersonal relationships.
But other factors have been just as important. We all get a huge energy charge out of being independent together, taking care of business in smart ways, learning and doing. Mundane tasks have felt like adventures. At first daunted, I’ve grown to enjoy changing the old-fashioned gaslight mantles, balancing on a high stepladder and clinging to the lamp pole. Here’s the important part: Jean and Karen are always there, supporting the ladder. Didn’t think I could do it the first time, but now it’s a piece of cake.
One of our home maintenance projects literally put a bug in my ear. A tiny ant crawled in while I was removing a shutter from the ivy-covered brick wall. For a week, I thought it was water bubbling around in my head until the ant crawled out. Yuck! Moral of the story: live and learn. Try new things. Stretch. Suck it up when yucky things happen, but enjoy telling the story later.
At Shadowlawn, I’ve learned to work extra hard at self-control. Unlike the expectations within a family, we knew from the start that this partnership would not be permanent. I for one don’t take anything or anyone for granted. This situation is too good to risk messing up.
I am continually amazed at how multi-faceted and complex people are; when you live with other people, you are reminded on a daily basis. My responsible, smart and well-organized partners have their inconsistencies and foibles; I do, too.
People ask if there is a downside to cohouseholding. I answer, “Not really.” Some annoying stuff happens in any household where people live together, as it also did when I lived alone. The biggest disappointments: occasional minor oversights that cause waste or inefficiency or security problems: the refrigerator door left open, the stove burner left on, the side door ajar, candles burning down, and – icing on the cake – the garden hose left dripping for three months, leaking into the basement. I have likely been the unwitting culprit at times, although it is human nature to hope it was someone else’s error. I’ve learned it’s best not to blame.
However, those occasional lapses have an impact. I fight the impulse to over-compensate or control by increasing my vigilance. While I rarely worry about anything, I tend to think proactively and notice details. I try to be subtle when I double-check to be sure lights are out, doors are locked; usually they are, but sometimes they’re not. In a traditional family setting, I might yell at the suspected culprit; here, I don’t.
I thought long and hard about that provocative question, How have you changed? I kept coming up blank. Am I less controlling? Am I more flexible? Neater? Better able to compromise? Any better able to be a team player? Hmm . . . better ask the housemates what they think. But suddenly I knew my answer. I am happier.
So – ask me about the Shadowlawn adventure and I’ll speak in fluent cliché, but it’s just the plain truth. We’ve all expanded our horizons and our capabilities. We’ve lived far better for far less. All for one and one for all. Wouldn’t change a thing. No regrets. Life is good.
The Last B-Mail
From: lmachinist
Date: April 20 10:30:55 PM EST
To: Karen Bush
Subject: B-mail
Dear Karen,
Did Big One and Quick One tell you how good I have been at night? I’ve been sleeping like a log, ‘cause my tummy has been full. The kibble is extra yummy and smells so meaty with hot water mixed in. I guess I’m getting too old to chomp hard kibble, so sometimes I don’t even bother.
It’s been the cat’s meow, living here with three humans to spoil me and four toilets to drink out of.
Love,
Beardsley
P.S. No matter what happens, I know that you will never find another cat as wonderful as me.
Sadly, we lost Beardsley when she reached the ripe old age of 19. We’d like to think that her years with all of us at Shadowlawn were her best. In her honor, we continue to call our annual trips “The Annual Beardsley Guilt Trips.”
For a black cat, I sure am lucky. I was a tiny stray, rescued by some nice old folks. They couldn’t keep me because I “ran them ragged.” Then one day, three strange humans came to visit. I entertained them by climbing, knocking things over, hiding behind the furniture. It worked. I got a new home where I am the Alpha Cat.
They named me for Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction, but I just like to play . . . glassware and toilet paper are my specialties.
Beardsley – I try to continue your legacy by chasing the chipmunks. I heard that you liked to eat them, but I prefer to beg in the kitchen for kibble.
Kali
Kali strikes again!