The House at the end of the Lane
short story, realism, elderly, residential homes, community living
Published on:
Feb. 23, 2008, 8:01pmWord Count:
2581Work Description
Talks about a residential home for the elderly and the residents within it
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was careful to observe their methods of horse care, not that they
would easily disclose secrets to a woman. Ruth understood horses, their cares and needs, and
as such built a fairly profitable business which she did not allow
to be undermined by her constant succession of
husbands. Within the home she tended to
be domineering and austere – it took time for her to comfortably
find her place in the mix of humanity there. After a lifetime of taking orders from other
people, some elderly just don’t want to take it anymore.
Cookie came to the family as she danced into her nineties. Until the day she moved in, she sun-bathed in the nude, with her sister, on the back patio. Her infectious, child-like giggle bounced about the walls of the home, catching others in its sway. Creative, intelligent, she had run her own wallpaper design company until retiring. But she lived within the social restraints and conditions of her generation . . . a radical colostomy in her twenties led to even more radical decisions. She didn’t believe she could inflict her health concerns upon a man so had never married, nor even dated. She had a personality to light up any room, but didn’t feel able to share it with the opposite sex. She saw herself as damaged goods and kept to a narrowly defined existence, eking out pleasure when ever she could.
The day came when the home seemed to loose its soul. The children had grown up and moved away, far away. The original guests with whom the family had been so connected to either had died or had gone to the next level of care, that of a nursing home because they had come to require daily nursing care and the supervision of a doctor. Without the help of children, the home was difficult for the mother to maintain. The multitude of chores was overwhelming. She tried to hire help, but they lacked initiative or couldn’t respect the guests and their needs. She grew more and more tired, the daily duties wearing her down until she too realized that the winds of change were sweeping by. Her husband, always a shadow in the upstairs rooms, grew ever more faint, unwilling and unable to help. He withdrew more and more into his chair until it seemed the fabric had swallowed him whole. The gracious manor house had served them all well, but it was showing more obvious signs of wear. One day the mother closed its doors for good and packing their bags, moved her and her husband to a new land and a new dream, one more in keeping with this stage of their lives. They simply could not sit and watch the river flow past anymore . . . so they drove down the lane, past potholes and inclines, declines, ravines, cliffs, oceans, and mountains in search of a new destiny.
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I read your story with interest for a couple of reasons, not the least being that I've spent three decades of my life sharing life with older adults. I was interested to see how your piece would portray them; what sorts of attitudes I could detect. I think that for the most part, you kept a respectful, almost reverent attitude toward the guests of the rest home, which is their due, whether they be fictional or real.
There were some inconsistencies in verb tense in various places throughout the piece, as well as a choice of incorrect words or spellings, such as:
Over everything is a faint air of musty, vaguely pungent, old body sweat, even while the ceiling fan sluggishly churns the air around.
I would suggest substituting "odor" rather than "sweat"--sweat is not wrong, but odor is more subtle and covers a multitude of odors a person may exude.
In the summer the guests like to sit out on the porch and help shell peas and snip beans for supper as well as to be frozen for the winter ahead.I believe the correct term is to "snap: beans, rather than "snip" them. This phrase is also used near the end of the piece.
They live in quarters upstairs from most of the guests, although there are a few who live in bedrooms close by.This sentence is missing "away" between "upstairs" and "from." This paragraph, describing the family is especially strong--very nice.
Thank you for letting this piece be read and I wish you the best.
This is a fine piece of writing. You've captured wonderful character descriptions in your snapshots. My mother-in-law lived in an old house quite similar to the one you've described. The primary difference was her assisted living home was only for women. Thank you for reminding us all that even though people do get very old they are still individual - some good, some not - and they all have a place in the world.
I truly enjoyed reading this work.
I'll be honest. I'm sitting here trying to figure out why I was so captivated by this story. I think because it conveys the idea that these homes are no less interesting than the Smithsonian, really not so different from a museum. I don't think that there's really anything I can critique in a negative way as far as style, only a few grammatical and spelling slips. You did a good job of reminding us that the people who live in these homes are people just as we are, and they have needs just as we do. I'm impressed that you found a way to make this into a true story, rather than just a biography of "inmates". Clever title as well. Masterfully done, especially your introductory description of the physical layout of the home itself.