LIL

You can’t miss her, not even in a room fully dispersed with silvery-white hair. She’s the one wearing authentic black-framed-cateye glasses, somehow still perfectly intact from the 1960’s. Before you ask, she gets a slew of compliments on her eyewear and “there’s a long line to inherit them”. Lil is 92 years old, an independent living resident at the John Bertram House, and one of the more vivacious and productive members of her small community. The John Bertram House houses approximately twenty-five residents at a time, each resident full of a long life’s worth of history-rich stories, personality, and charm. Even among this fascinating crowd, Lil stands out. She is special, though she doesn’t see herself that way. Speaking with Lil - a woman with enduring loyalty to her family, friends, and home town - turned out to be more than just a pleasure for me. Our talk was both inspiring and deeply moving, and it left me wishing I could travel back in time to know her younger self, before the John Bertram House.

Lil

Self-described “oldest virgin in Salem”, Lil was born, and remained in, Salem MA her entire life. “I lived a very active life”, she says despite never experiencing marriage, dating, or raising children of her own. She had a brief interest in a gentleman just before he went off to fight in the second world war, but sadly, he was killed in action, and Lil never found another man she was interested in pursuing. Despite a lack of romance, there never was a lack of enduring love in Lil’s life. From the emotion in her face while recalling those she’s lost over the years, it is clear she has loved deeply and completely for the people who came into her life. Lil’s small bedroom is popping with colorful collections of family photos on the wall, and the twinkle in her eye when she points them out to me is infectious.

Historic Salem MA

Before she retired at the age of 62 (more than 30 years ago), Lil worked at G.E. assembling parts for guns fired on battleships during World War II. She also served as president and vice president for over twenty years at an employment agency in town, which is where she claims to have acquired her regimented organization skills. Lil is the only resident I’m aware of who organizes an activity at the John Bertram House - and a popular one at that. Not only does Lil head the regular “Pokeno” game (a variation of Bingo), she funds it out of her own pocket - a fact few, if any, of the players know about. Lil runs her game professionally with order and attentiveness. The game begins and ends promptly and there is very little time wasted. In contrast to her authoritative nature during the game is her nurturing side she provides to the players. Lil arranges for those with the hardest of hearing to sit closest to the card caller, the person who had a stroke has her stone chips set out on the left side as opposed to her right, Julia’s chair is pushed against the wall until she arrives so that Lil can help her into her seat, and Lil knows which candies each player enjoys to have at their station.

Pokeno

Many of the stories Lil tells unintentionally paint her as an unwavering devoted friend to her loved ones, but she scoffs at this. “It was a different time, everyone did it” she tells me when I express my awe at her willingness to spend years of her life moving back and forth from house-to-house caring for her aging, sick friends and family. Lil was raised in poverty due partly to the death of her father when she was only three years old. Her oldest brother quit school and became head of household when he was just sixteen. Lil says matter of factly, “that was just expected of him”. She also adds affectionately, “he was my brother, my father, my best friend. He was my everything and he still is”. She recalls walking along the train tracks as a child with her brother, collecting coal to heat their family home. I believe Lil when she tells me it was a different time and people held different priorities than they do today, but she is also wrong. Lil is special. When she tells me how she sold her childhood home and all her possessions to become caregiver to her “chum” Marjorie, throughout Marjorie’s last years, I know Lil grew into old age without attachments to the material world, which is a special quality even among her generation. Lil valued the people rather than the things around her and fostered meaningful relationships.

Lil's "chum" Marjorie

“My mother never wanted me to be alone” she says, “so I always aimed to live with people, although I did live alone for many years”. After Marjorie passed away, Lil decided to find an assisted living community for herself. Choosing to live at the John Bertram House wasn’t a difficult decision for Lil because she says, “they are very good here” although she whispers, “this place is very expensive”. Lil is able to afford her stay at the home because, even at 92 years old,  she has “independent living” status and doesn’t need additional care with medication assistance, bathing/dressing, escorts, and transportation - all which require a surcharge. All Lil required in her search was a place that would meet a few simple needs: to remain in Salem, to occupy a small, compact room, and to have all her meals provided. Lil has lived at the John Bertram House for about four years, which is roughly the length she figured she could afford out of her own pocket. The John Bertram trust fund is set up to give some financial assistance to residents who are able to live independently so they can remain in the home after their personal funds run out. So, she maintains her independent status with determination. She gave up her car only last year for reasons such as “well, you know, I’m 92, the streets here are terrible”, then adds with subtle annoyance, “and people want you to have your wits about you when you’re driving”.

A community setting like the one at the John Bertram House is important to Lil since she not only thrives on social interaction, but also on serving a purpose. Lil has taken many of the elders under her wing. I’ve observed her lovingly assist others throughout the rooms, and interact with the kind of care only a mother would give. She is known to grab a broom in the dining hall, strip the tables of their linens after meals, and clean up the common area even though these are all tasks reserved for staff. Rarely, if ever, does she request assistance for herself. She even opts not to use the elevator, but climbs up and down the stairs each day - carefully grasping both railings as she goes - and walking backward down the stairs to better view her feet.

John Bertram House

One of the most tragic consequences of living a long life is the solitude that inevitably follows from out-living those around you. Throughout Lil’s life, she has lost both her parents, four of her five siblings (one to the war, another to a car accident, two to cancer), her best friend Marjorie, another dear friend, Ruthie, her dearly beloved brother-in-law, and many more. There is no age at which a person becomes immune to the grief of living in a world without their loved ones. At the John Bertram House, Lil continues to experience this kind of heartbreak, though the relationships she builds now don’t compare to the ones she had in her life before - “they die too quick”, she says with teary eyes. Lil tells me that Lilian, another resident, died last night, and I hold back my tears. “At least they told us this time”, she says referring to the John Bertram House staff, “sometimes we just read about it in the newsletter”.

Lilian, or “Beautiful Lilian” as I called her, was another one of the residents I’ve had the chance to know over the last two months. An elegant, petite woman with perfectly silver hair and impeccable style, Lilian couldn’t speak louder than a whisper, but what she had to say was always as gentle as her voice. She was full of compliments and gratitude, patience, and willingness to engage. She told me about her two daughters, her work as a nurse, and how happy she felt to see me smiling at her. I came to love and adore Lilian in just a short time and now she is gone.

Lily's last bloom

Lilian’s death, should not have felt unexpected, but it did. Suddenly the conversation I was having with Lil felt intensely important. I wanted to ask her everything at once, knowing that every conversation, every hello, every hug, and every smile with someone here at the house could be the last. But, it was clear from Lil’s teary eyes that the better thing might be for her to get back to the football game playing that I knew would lift her spirits, so I did my best to wrap up our conversation, promising myself I’d be back to speak with her more another time.