MAKING PEACE WITH GROWING OLDER
I have a client. He calls his mother by her first name. He never says, "my mother" or "mom". She's ninety. She's tiny. She's frail, but she's feisty. She's a widow living in a post-war rambling classic six just off of Fifth Avenue. Age is creeping up on her.
They've removed the knobs from her stove in case she should forget to turn them off even though she no longer cooks. She has full time care. Her son visits her regularly and takes her to the park. He buys her books with large print that she reads but doesn't remember. She watches TV during the day on a chair she pulls up inches from the screen. She smiles a lot. She has opinions.
Now her son and his brother have decided it's time to move her into an assisted living facility. She toured three with her son, each one in New York City. She chose the newest one. She seemed to respond to the luxury. It's close to Bloomingdales although she doesn't go out shopping much anymore.
It came with all the amenities. There is a yoga room, an art studio, beautiful lounges on each floor, a rooftop garden and the attention to service you would expect with a luxury facility in the heart of New York City. It will be harder to get to the park from here but the terrace is just down the hall from the penthouse apartment she and her son have picked.
The first time I came into the building there was a violin concert going on in the second floor main lounge. The calming classical music covered our footsteps as we made our way to the elevator taking us to the sixteenth floor and the new apartment.
My client opened the door to my challenge: an open area attached to two small rooms and a bath. The entry opened into a kitchenette with a refrigerator, cabinets and a sink but no stove.
This, a completed bath and drapes on the windows were the only things provided. It rented empty and the tenants were required to furnish them themselves. The apartment had two smaller rooms intended to be two bedrooms for a shared apartment. My client wanted to give his mother more room and had asked me to transform these rooms into a bedroom and a living room. The proportions were perfect for his tiny mother. Within a week the contract was signed with the facility and then another contract was signed between the client and us.
Work began immediately with drawings and layouts. With the signing of the contracts the clock began ticking. We needed to get his mother in the apartment as soon as we could.
The easy part was coming up with a design. The hard part was finding in-stock or quick ship pieces that we could purchase to fill out the apartment. We were starting from scratch other than a few mementos to connect her to her past.
Art from her many travels with her husband were the connecting element to the new apartment and her past.
The timeline of completion was critical. We wanted to get her in the apartment as soon as possible.
We gave ourselves two months. Anything with a delivery time longer than eight weeks we would have to take off our list and find an alternative. Some how it worked.
The rooms are now full. She moves in at the end of the week. I've grown very fond of her. I'm hoping she will let me visit from time to time.
