By Steve Moran
I am going to confess that maybe this has nothing to do with senior living, or maybe everything with senior living. I am not quite sure.
I was recently listening to an old audiobook by Nelson DeMille, and there is a scene that describes some ’60s idealists sitting around smoking weed and listening to Simon and Garfunkel. That was actually a little before my time (I graduated in 1973), but those were the songs of my youth. I wanted to be one of those Haight-Ashbury love children but was constrained beyond action by my age; my upbringing; and my shy, cowardly nature.
But listening to that passage inspired waves of nostalgia, so I fired up Spotify and did a little trip down memory lane, binging on Simon and Garfunkel and The Beatles.
The Great Thing About Nostalgia
The great thing about nostalgia is that it drastically rewrites history, accentuating the good and minimizing the bad. In truth, I was a pretty miserable teen and young adult, but the music made me for a moment, in my mind, feel young — the good part of young.
Struck by the Hope
What struck me most powerfully was the hope, the potential, the possibility that existed in so many of the musical storylines. There was this idea that no matter how bad your circumstances were, just around the corner was magic and joy.
Senior Living — Purveyors of Hope
When I think about senior living, at least in its idealized form, it is 100% about hope and possibility. It is all about living the very best life there is to live for whatever time is left, which could be decades in life-plan communities and years, months, and weeks for independent living, assisted living, and even memory care.
We provide hope and possibility for residents, families, and even team members.
I am just not 100% sure we are living up to our potential. But what if we did? What if we were the dreamers of society?
