Years ago, a friend gave me a framed version of a poem that begins like this: “When I am old I shall wear purple. I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin sandals and say we’ve no money for butter…” It also advises to start practicing right now, so that “people who know me are not too shocked and surprised when suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.”
Lately, whenever I reflect on this cheeky declaration, the same question comes to mind: What happens if a woman is old and alone, and there is truly no money for butter, and she has to “gobble up samples in shops” (another line in the poem) not because she’s such a free spirit but because she’s broke and homeless?
According to a recent study from Allianz Life, nearly half of women in the U.S. who make more than $30,000 a year – and 27 percent of those with salaries over $200,000 – are afraid they will end up destitute and alone on the streets. In other words, we fear we will end up as bag ladies.
Because females, statistically, are likely to live longer than men, many of us wonder how and where we will spend our twilight years. In the past, relatives took in grandmas and stray aunts, but now with families settled in far-flung places, one may end up depending on the kindness of strangers.
It makes me wish that my community had had a resident like Charles Ford, from New Harmony, Indiana, who had the foresight to endow a ladies’ retirement home back in 1940 to meet the needs of his aging mother and his infirm sister, Anna B. Ford.
Mr. Ford’s legacy endures today on Main Street in New Harmony, as the Charles Ford Memorial Home. According to the website, the residence offers “a high quality way of life which enhances dignity, promotes individuality, and encourages independence.”
The trust left by Ford allows residents to enjoy luxurious amenities and personalized care, while keeping costs low. There are three lounge areas, a formal parlor, an event room, an enclosed sun porch, three screened porches, two open porches and a gazebo. The formal parlor features a piano that was built during the Civil War era by William Knabe and Co., considered the Steinway of instruments from that time. Residents are encouraged to use these areas anytime for personal time and/or for visitors.
And there’s Wi-Fi to boot.
In past trips to New Harmony, I barely noticed the place when I jogged past. Last spring, however, I paused to take a closer look. In block letters, the sign out front said in block letters, “The Charles Ford Memorial Home” with “Ladies Residence” inscribed below in graceful, genteel type. The house is sturdy brick with steep pitched gables and stark white trim. A peek around back revealed a charming gazebo, white wicker furniture, and a porch replete with red geraniums.
Originally, all applicants had to be residents of Indiana for at least two years, with preference given to women from New Harmony and Posey County. The other original requirements included being “at least 65 years of age, with good moral character and able to furnish references. There was to be no religious preference required and each applicant was to pass a required medical examination.”
Changing with the times, the Charles Ford Home now admits women 55 years and older as monthly renters. No admittance fee is required and no assets are turned over to the home. In addition, there is no long-term lease requirement, and there are residents who stay for a spell, sometimes just over the winter, or while recovering from an illness.
While I’m not quite ready to don a red hat and slip into a purple frock, I find it hard not to think ahead and wonder what the future will bring. Is there affordable care for women like me in my community?
The answer is “No,” I suspect, and I’m not sure if there is anything I can do about it except take one day at a time and – like the poem says – “go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens…and learn to spit.”
Guess I better get busy.
Background and full text of the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph, is available here. For more information on the “bag lady” data, click here.
Constance Alexander is a faculty scholar in the Teacher Quality Institute at Murray State University. She is also a freelance writer.