Tag Archives: rules

Disappearing Dining Rooms

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I read an article this morning that stated dining rooms were disappearing from American households. I wonder what that might say about family life today or get-togethers with friends.

I grew up in the 50s. A few of my friends’ homes had dining rooms, and others’ homes, including ours, had kitchen tables where we would dine with our family. At the time, dining rooms were reserved for special meals, or the occasion when guests visited for dinner. We sat down together, every night for the family meal by a table. It didn’t matter what was going on, especially if you were a kid, you were to be home for dinner, which in those days the night meal was called supper in the Midwest.

Usually, when meals were served in dining rooms, the dining experience was reserved for the special China and the good silverware. We had certain manners we had to use. I always loved the dining room experience as it made it a special meal.

I must admit I didn’t read the entire article. It could have been that people are transitioning to the big room experience and table. I suspect if I would have read it more in-depth than just a skim, the main focus would have been on family either having a leisurely dinner hour, or the fact many families do not sit down together for a meal anymore because they are too busy. Kids and parents grab their plates and sit separately at a counter, or in front of the television, or with a book or phone in their hands, ignoring the other people in the room. In my youth I tried to read books at the table. I never wanted to put down my book, but reading at meals wasn’t allowed. The same as hats at the table were not allowed. Fast food pickup today is popular with the working moms and dads and kids. The family can eat on the run separately while on the way to the many activities.

If I travel back through time and look at my pictures of the past, the photos over the years depict my family dining experience with family and friends. It was the heart at the meal. Every birthday is captured around the table. Every anniversary, birthday celebration, and the night meal are around a table. That was our time, coming together over a meal at night. Granted my kids would complain, they didn’t always like the food. Brussel Sprouts were not their favorite. One evening we had company and the adults sat at the table with the kids sitting at their own table because of space. We learned we should never let the kids out of our sight when there was a questionable vegetable. I found out later that one of my children put their creamed rutabagas in a napkin and snuck it into my friend’s purse so it only appeared that he ate them. Yes, at our table the kids had to try everything and eat what we served. There were no separate meals for the kids. We had a good laugh at that one. When my friend informed me weeks later of the mischief, I was upset. She laughed and said that was why she didn’t tell me sooner. My friend thought it was funny. She was a teacher who apparently had a sense of humor. The memory of the meal together stayed with us for many years. Now I have no one but the culprits to share the memory with and they aren’t talking. My friend has passed on, but he friendship and memory of that night by a forgiving friend is priceless.

As a family at the table, we shared our day, our fun things and our sad experiences. We laughed, we fought, we complained, but we were together. My kids learned manners and how to use the right utensils in case they were at a fine dining establishment. It was a time that I fear is long gone. There is something to be said about sitting around a table and talking for hours. And… teaching kids they do need to learn to sit and listen to adults and have patience. Yes, it can be done. Manners at a table, I believe reach out to the world in better learned behavior. Have you been in any restaurants with kids these days? Behavior hasn’t changed but the response of the parents has. Eating together also was an opportunity to assess if our kids were doing okay. Yes, sometimes we missed it. But family meals result in many funny stories to our grandchildren.

A few years ago, I was a guest at my son’s home. My grandson requested noodles for dinner. He then said to me, “Grandma, do you know what dad told me? He said if he didn’t eat what you made, he had to go to bed and he didn’t get any supper, and everyone had to eat the same thing. I told him you wouldn’t do that.” I laughed and informed him that it was indeed true. I don’t know if that was a teaching moment in my grandson’s life or a realization that perhaps his grandma wasn’t who he thought she was.

I’ll confess, I no longer have a dining room or a kitchen table in my apartment. It is too tiny a space. I had a table and chairs for the last year, but having guests was too cramped with the table. Have I given up on the sitting around the table experience? No. I am translating the table to tv trays, sitting them in a circle in front of my living room furniture so guests can sit and still have a table and group experience.

There is a reason the television show, Blue Bloods, dining scene is popular. They represent the families of the past, sharing bread and sharing their life, once a week. The Reagan family slows down and takes the time to learn about each other’s up and downs of the week, building a bridge one conversation at a time. Maybe we all want to experience that connection again.

We need those bridges of conversation at a dinner table more today than possibly in the history of our country. Families are fractured. Friendships survive on meeting in between our busy activities. We have a hard time turning off our phones and stepping away from the noise. We have sacrificed time with those that mean the most to us, for living in a world that offers us glamour, stress, and builds in us an idea that for our kids being busy keeps them out of trouble. We spend more time online with strangers than we do with those who share our lives in the flesh. How’s that working for us? Build that bridge. Break that bread at the table with family and friends. That’s the spice of life. We will all leave this earth one day. What will our life and the way we spend our time tell others about what we value?

Senior Snarking

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Laying low. Being silent. Reflecting. Crabbing. Yes, I have tried all those various ways of being lately. It’s been two years the end of this month since we moved from our home, first into independent living for both of us, then memory care for Mark and HUD independent living for me. I’ve learned so much about aging and care. My moods have been euphoric, depressing to the point of falling apart, sad at the passing of my husband, and anger at rules that are and are not enforced,and happy for my new environment and friends.

One of the hardest lessons is learning to live in an apartment for the first time in buildings for seniors that have many rules which call for adjustments in the way we were used to living.

It’s no secret that in my first abode, first try at senior living, we were always at odds with management because of mistakes in billing and care. However as residents we were not restricted with many things we could or could not do which affected our freedom of living.

I love where I live now. My second senior housing try. The campus and my independent living apartment are very beautiful and comfy, however I am learning that as a resident there are many more restrictions. I and other residents have a hard time adhering to rules. Remember teenage years when the don’t always turned into…I want to try that?

It’s very hard for older people who have had to leave their homes, their communities and the independence they had, to find their world smaller and their choices restricted. Younger managers don’t always understand their role in making sure seniors do not feel threatened by the penalty for a misstep in not following what seems to seniors, silly and frivolous restrictions. Considering everything else seniors may be encountering physically an emotionally, being stressed about getting written up should not be happening. Staff is not always trained to patiently work and understand the way problems are addressed whcih makes a difference in older people’s reactions to having their boundaries changed when it comes to living their lives. If seniors are talked down to, treated like children and addressed by raised voices they feel threatened and disrespected and not being heard. You’ve read the articles on senior citizens not being seen as viable people that still have wisdom and years of living experience that would benefit being listened to. Many managers do not know that the subject being complained about is not necessarily the problem, but the restriction is about another choice being taken away. The language and tone about which it is addressed matters.

Seniors in senior housing, especially low income senior housing, should not have to feel afraid to speak up because of repercussions, but they do. Plus, they are afraid of losing their home if HUD funding changes.

If it were not for HUD housing many elderly tenants would have no home and it is a worry that is real. Elderly tenants that live in HUD housing have worked hard all their life, but have no retirement savings as benefits were not a available to them, or they come from an abusive household, or their medical bills ate up everything they have. Some make just enough from Social Security to not qualify for help such as Medicaid, but do not make enough to pay the rents, groceries and health care.

And so we argue about things that to the younger generation doesn’t matter, such as the ability to move tables around in the dining room, changing the arrangement of them according to our activities and groups that might want to have their own conversations. Or the ability to have our small kitchen in our dining/community room open so on weekends we don’t have to bring pots of coffee down from our apartments to serve our afternoon coffee crowd. We argue over communication when we feel we are being patronized, dismissed and not heard. Our opinions don’t matter to the running of our home when we have decades of wisdom that might make a difference to the peacefulness of community. We want an environment that is well taken care of so when visitors arrive they don’t see the stuffing in the dining room chairs or the cracks in patio furniture that says we are not the wealthy side of the community.

I learned myself that asking questions over and over because of not getting a satisfactory answer, or expressing concern over management, can get you written up and result in a conversation with the manager and upper level staff. These things are destroying the peaceful atmosphere. It’s felt like being called into the principal’s office in high school, which never happened to me. It took 73 years to be called to the office. I learned recording a resident meeting so we have minutes is a no-no because I didn’t inform them I was doing it, though those at my table knew. I honestly didn’t know the rules of recording a community meeting. But I now know what can and can’t be done so I can do better

It is hard for all of us that haven’t lived with these restrictions in our home to get used to having them at our age. However, I understand to have a peaceful environment rules are needed and entities may impose them so we don’t have problems.

Those are the hard parts, but these are the blessings. I have eleven neighbors on our floor and we help each other out. We have fun, we watch out for one another and we don’t ever have to be lonely. We just have to step outside our door. Add the other four floors and we are a family. I’ve met so many good people and I have learned about courage from those whose lives are hard and filled with pain and disability. Yes, residents have squabbles with each other. Who doesn’t have issues even in a family environment.

I live in a beautiful friendly community that keeps me busy and interested. I have met people of different races, religion and genders that have given me growth in acceptance of those who are different than me. I didn’t want to move those years ago but it was necessary for my husband’s care, and yet it’s one of the best experiences of my life. The people we met, the places we’ve lived, learning about hospice and feeling enveloped by family and friends through my husband’s death. God does know what he’s doing. We have to trust there is a plan. Now I just need to learn to follow the rules. You know they say curiosity killed the cat. I don’t want to use up my nine lives, plus detention is no fun at my age.