One of the most peculiar convictions I’ve heard elder relatives assert is that senior living communities are for “old people,” implying they are NOT old and — as magical, un-aging, death-defied super elves — they are therefore exempt from further discussion on the matter. Because, dur. Who wants to be around “old people” all day. I get it. When I close my eyes and imagine my now self, I’m 27 with no kids, a hot husband and non-crepe-y skin. That is a much pizzazzier me to be! But segregating myself from “old people” when I’m old? I really hope I don’t think that way 20 years from now. TBH, the thought of living with other people my age and stage in a tidy home void of all the stuff I’ve accumulated over the years and the maintenance that comes with it sounds like heaven. Happy hours with neighbors on our screened lanai overlooking the community retention pond? Yes, please. Meals someone else prepares? Thank you, yes. Then my mind wanders to grateful thoughts about what a relief this is to my children, who won’t have to worry about me and my “oldness.” Being old, with older people is a blessing, right? Plus, isn’t this everyone’s end game — to be old with other old people? #GrandPlans