Once, people moved in with their families when they got old. But what happens now that so many of their children are out at work all day? Rosita Boland visits a 'retirement village' whose residents value living independently but with help at hand.
Ireland is changing. Some of the changes are very visible, such as Dundrum's controversial new shopping centre. Others are more subtle, such as demographics. More than a quarter of the population is aged 50 or over. That's more than a million people. And almost one in 12 people is 70 or over. It's clear that within a generation we will have a sizable elderly population. It's also clear that our social structures are changing and that we will face new challenges as a result.
Once, for example, ageing relatives came to live with other members of their families. This is becoming less common. It's not that we have suddenly turned into an uncaring, selfish society. Part of the problem is that large houses with spare rooms are no longer the norm. And lots of couples now work full time. Any relatives who came to live with them would be alone for most of the day - unless they were permanently babysitting their grandchildren. Better diets and standards of living have also contributed to longevity. So if people don't move in with their families, where are they going to live?
One option is the retirement village. Well established in the US and Australia, they have begun to spring up around Ireland. Moate Retirement Village, in Co Westmeath, was launched this month. Moorehall Lodge, in Co Louth, is open. Middletown House, in Co Wexford, is scheduled to open later in the year. It's a fair bet that many more developers will build retirement villages.
Kilmainhamwood Retirement Village opened in 2001, in a green and peaceful part of rural Co Meath between Nobber and Kingscourt. Run by Mowlam Enterprises, which also runs the village in Moate, the site has 49 bungalows, 10 of them detached and all available for rent or purchase. It also has a daycare centre, which is open to local residents who wish to use the facilities, and a 50-bed nursing home.
It is an uncomfortable fact that nursing homes have suffered from terrible publicity, rightly in some cases. But the residents of Kilmainhamwood have other concerns. It's noon in the bright daycare centre, where residents and visitors can go for lunch three times a week, and people are gathering round tables and chatting. A group of men are in one corner with cards, intently playing twenty-five for bottle tops.
Margaret Clements - elegant, dignified and sitting ramrod straight - is 91. So is her husband, Peter. The Clements are English. They moved to Ireland from Devon four years ago, after their only child, a son, settled near Slane. They bought a house at Kilmainhamwood so they would be close to him and his family. They were two of the village's first residents. Soon after they arrived, Peter fell ill and required full-time care. He is now in the nursing home; Margaret remains in her house. "I go and see him every day. Being here means that I can continue to live independently and also visit Peter every day without making long journeys," she says.
Margaret is sharing a table with 84-year-old Maisie Farnan and 73-year-old Theresa McConnell, who are sisters. Farnan, a widower, has been here for more than a year. "I don't think people should live on their own when they get to our age," she says. Her sister decided to move here six months ago, with her husband, Kevin, who is 80. "We thought about it for a whole year," says McConnell. "We had even moved out of our old house and built ourselves a new bungalow. But Kevin has health problems, including diabetes. After he spent 60 hours on a trolley a while ago, we knew we couldn't remain living where we were, which was so isolated."
The McConnells have 11 children, some of whom offered to accommodate them. In fact their children initially objected to their coming to Kilmainhamwood. But the couple decided that they wanted to retain as much independence as possible. "We knew we were wanted, but being wanted wasn't enough," says McConnell. "We knew that they wouldn't be able to give us the care Kevin needs; he needs regular medical attention." Now, any time Kevin needs help, they can call on 24-hour assistance from the nursing home. Each resident carries a panic button; pressing it brings immediate help. "They should have made these retirement villages ages ago," says McConnell. Farnan says: "You wouldn't recognise her now. She was skin and bone, she was so worried before about Kevin." McConnell adds: "Kevin used to be very in on himself. Now he is in great form."
Which man is Kevin? She points out one of the laughing, card-playing men on the other side of the room. "It's very nice and quiet here," he says later. "You can go for a walk without being afraid of bicycles flying past you."
Una Flanagan is sitting at a nearby table. A former housekeeper who worked seven days a week, she never married. When she retired she moved to Kilmainhamwood, where she rents a bungalow. Everyone else I talk to receives regular visitors. Flanagan, who has a bright smile, admits she doesn't get visitors. She treasures the company of the other residents, who are clearly very fond of her. "We all stick together here, as the saying goes."
McConnell offers to show me her bungalow, and we make the short walk across from the daycare centre. Some of the houses were sold unfurnished, so people could bring their own things. Surprisingly, according to Anya Louellen, who deals with sales at Kilmainhamwood, most residents preferred to leave everything behind and move into brand-new furnished houses. Many people brought only small personal items, such as pictures and a couple of small favourite pieces of furniture: china cabinets, armchairs.
McConnell's house was unfurnished, as she wanted to bring her possessions with her. It's a bright, well-laid-out space that looks easy to keep. She misses having an open fire, though. She also misses her kitchen range. The walls are decorated with pictures from home, and outside the front door is a collection of ornaments: swans, pigs, dogs, a gnome. Everyone, she says, drops in and out of each other's houses for tea and a chat.
The houses all have two bedrooms, so guests can stay, and range between 725 and 895sq ft. They sell for €165,000 and rent for between €185 and €232 a week. Anyone can buy one, but only over-55s can live in them. Just over half of the houses are occupied. A third of them house couples, the rest single people. You are allowed to keep pets. Some people have cars. For those without transport, buses come regularly to take residents shopping and for outings. Visitors are welcome at any time, and residents are free to come and go as they please.
Across the way, at the nursing home, 47 of the 50 beds are occupied. Marie Hélène Finegan is the manager. Staying there costs from €556 a week for a place in a four-bed room to €630 for a single room. Some beds are available through the public health system, others through private insurance. "I think places like this will become more prevalent, where housing and onwards care are integrated in the one location," says Finegan.
The downside of a retirement village is that all of the residents are of a certain age. It's not a true community in that sense. You might miss an open fire, but you'd probably miss the everyday mix of people from the wider world more. But some residents don't mind. "What I like most about this place is that I feel safe and secure, which is a big thing in this day and age," says 72-year-old Tess Field.
Designs for life
In our ageing society, the 'lifetime-adaptable home' could provide people with another alternative to retirement homes.
Fionnuala Rogerson, who is an architect based in Dublin, specialises in lifetime-adaptable homes, meaning housing that is suitable for people of all ages. "Clients such as local authorities are now looking seriously at lifetime-adaptable housing. So much money is spent each year on converting existing houses for use by people who now have limited mobility that it makes sense to start off by designing a space which can be adapted over time."
Building standards have yet to be introduced, but for several years Rogerson has been incorporating such features as wider staircases, which are capable of taking chairlifts; downstairs toilets plumbed to accommodate showers in the future; enough space for downstairs bedrooms to be incorporated if necessary; and parking close to the front doors.
Rogerson has noticed that some of her local-authority and social-housing clients are extremely reluctant to install lifts in apartment buildings. "It's because of the bad publicity in the past around maintenance of lifts and antisocial behaviour. But I think it is a very bad idea, very short-sighted for the future, and will cost a huge amount of money to address structurally, if lifts do eventually go in later."
It also means that, if lifts are never installed, people will have to climb a lot of stairs in old age. The answer? "Limit the numbers of dwellings served by a lift," she says.
Rosita Boland
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