facing change
stories from Maine
I step into a community room on the ground floor of an affordable housing apartment building in Lewiston, led by a Pastoral Care Coordinator for Lewiston’s Prince of Peace Parish.
Inside are circular folding tables and chairs arranged neatly, close enough together to get a sense of it being filled with people at other times of day, or on event nights.
Now, there are just two women inside, tucked next to each other, hands knit together on the table.
Photo taken by Grace Ellrodt with subjects’ consent.
The Pastoral Care Coordinator who has arranged for me to be here makes regular visits to the sick and homebound.
She has a standing appointment here with these women, and a third person as well, on Sundays.
At first, I just sit quietly as the two women are led in a prayer, and receive Communion. Listen as I did:
Then, we all join together at the table, and after sharing my project’s intentions, we begin with their lives. One woman, 80 years old, in a short-sleeved patterned top, is particularly willing to share from the start.
She explains her recent move to this apartment building from a big house in Lewiston: neighbors who are like family scatter, and her house became unaffordable on social security. Now, she pays an adjusted rent based on 30% of her income.
Despite the fact that her move was not fully in her control, she quickly developed a sense of home here, especially given the apartment’s location near a bustling, neighborhood-kids-on-the-move downtown.
More reserved, the woman by her side, in a shock of a white sweater, shares her background. She is French Canadian.
She shares about growing up on a farm up in northern Maine before working in Lewiston’s mills. She is 98 years old and has a sense of humor about that.
Her story shows a gradual move from full-on preoccupation with work and family to having space in her day which needs filling, with both projects and people. Hear both women agree on this in understanding aging.
Photo by Grace Ellrodt with subject’s consent. Full face hidden for privacy.
Both women have physical limitations which make attending mass downright uncomfortable. Church ought to heal. But what to do if it (physically) hurts? An in-home (in this case, in-apartment building) service is, we could say, a blessing. Here’s why:
In-home church services like this one also bring community into the building when it is otherwise unreachable; When physical limitations are added to transport challenges. The apartment is located right in downtown, but with health considerations, walking is not an option.
One woman relies immensely on being able to drive herself about, and has no interest in using public transportation should she need it. Her fellow interviewee has not driven in 50 years. Their perspectives show how lifelong habits shape how well transportation options serve them.
Staying busy and purposeful is essential. But I still wondered: how do they maintain relationships and form new ones? It would seem that a recreation room like the one we’re talking in, “the community room," would foster just that— community.
But, as you’ll hear, because there is little programming to bring residents together to meet one another, simple floor landings with chairs and a coffee table to gather might do more to create in-home community. So, forget the community room, let's talk about the landing.
And yet, these limitations aside, both women have family members close by, but between visits, it is their creative and intellectual pursuits which focus their energies and give purpose.
I ask both women: do you think that you've experienced loneliness? Now or in your past? A fascinating thing happened: one woman felt sure she had not, and nor had others.
But the woman sitting right next to her, of sparing words, surprises her with her open response. It is one of the most moving responses, and back-and-forth exchanges between older adults with differing views on loneliness, which I’ve gathered in this project.
“Us girls,” facing change, and laughing (appropriately) in its face.