Reflections on Downsizing

Ed Note: Ed and Linda recently moved to the Olympic Tower. The reflections on downsizing will touch us all. I hope others will share their experiences.

Edgar K Marcuse MD, MPH, FPIDS

When does middle age end? Damned if I know, but in my 80^th year it was at last undeniable that I was now truly old, mature, elderly – you pick. Sporadic email brought unwelcome news of colleagues and friends ills and sometimes deaths. My older brother was struggling with Parkinson’s, my sister-in-law with blindness. Thanks to good fortune, genes, a stable marriage, amazing drugs, and surgeries to replace failing parts my spouse and I were far better than OK, but the handwriting on the wall was much too vivid to ignore: the  decade ahead would inevitably bring some hefty challenges.

Two decades earlier,  accepting the facts that  I was an incorrigible workaholic; that the rewards of my spouse’s job had diminished and there other paths we wanted to explore, we moved from our Seattle urban home of 35 years near my hospital and university to a semi-rural house on 6 acres overlooking Puget Sound’s shipping lanes. We wanted to experience the seasons, be exposed to wildlife, to garden, to fish, tend the land, walk in the woods and on the  beaches and travel. And we did. I gave up my clinical work at age 65, but continued in an administrative role (QI) until age 74. For almost 20 years we lived among the eagles, osprey, woodpeckers, deer, occasional bear and river otter.

We thought of ourselves as living in a very special weekend bed and breakfast, with the weekend never ending! The work-mowing, planting, pruning, mulching, weeding, hauling gravel, bark, firewood, chain sawing, raking – was rewarding and physically invigorating. Slowly some burdens emerged: we were cautioned about climbing ladder and trees; tasks took longer; what had been invigorating was at times physically challenging, and our splendid isolation was becoming a concern —  few neighbors, no public transportation, major medical centers a ferry ride away. So, after 3 years of deliberation, we choose to move into a continuing care retirement community in downtown Seattle.

Despite seminars on downsizing and moving I did not recognize the enormity of this undertaking nor, more importantly, its emotional toll. Now, 3 months post move -in, I want  to share some reflections. On our journey we physicians have many mentors as we climb our profession’s mountain, but few once we summit: ascending is a team sport, descending too often a solo journey, so sharing our stories seems worthwhile.

Why was the emotional toll so great? I think in large part because I focused only on the endings and losses; had no appreciation of the new beginnings or the gains; and because I struggled to

maintain control of uncontrollable factors. Thus, I fear I made my travel on the road to downsizing and moving steeper and bumpier than it had to be.

Moving to a retirement community in downtown Seattle has already yielded many rewards.

Many burdens have been lifted: forecasts of gale force winds no longer mean gathering a truck load of downed limbs, chain sawing and hauling the big ones away; forecasts of heavy rains no longer prompt worries of a landslide of our bank into Puget Sound. Our social life has become sufficiently complex that my spouse and I have had to master coordinating electronic calendars to coordinate multiple dinners with new friends; community lectures, concerts and ready access to downtown museums and performing arts – theater, symphony, opera.  The meals which may be taken in restaurant or as take out are varied, always good and often excellent; the exercise facilities too convenient to permit credible excuses, and home maintenance is the staff’s responsibility.

The losses were many: books, photos, heirlooms, furniture, rugs., clothes, even house plants that filled the stage on which we lived our lives. Gifting some items to friends and neighbors helped  to mitigate these losses, but the countless trips to Goodwill and thrift shop were a bizarre mixture of sadness at the loss and relief that one more box on the to do list had been checked off.

The sale of our home proceeded as anticipated, but inevitably there unexpected hurdles such as the county’s requirement we recertify our well,  the buyer’s offer dependent on an early move in date, having to make a major unneeded repair to comply with a house inspector’s finding. And there were glitches in the move in process: items temporarily lost by movers, delays in needed deliveries. All this became a litany of 2 to 4 AM ruminations reflecting my obsessive compulsive traits that served me better during my career than in retirement and my unwillingness to accept that this was part and parcel of process that would run its course despite my Herculean but foolhardy efforts manage it.

Now 8 weeks past move in we are truly confident in our decision to make this transition at this time in our lives when it was elective and we could share the countless choices and tasks. Our new opportunities hold great  promise.  Maybe in my dotage I can gain serenity to  recognize  and accept the things I cannot change and  to anticipate unimagined rewards lie ahead.