Updated: February 25, 2021
Originally Published: March 18, 2015
Known colloquially as “God’s Waiting Room,” Boca Raton serves as a retirement haven, particularly for those aged 55 and over. Upon my recent visit to my parents’ new residence in South Florida, they eagerly introduced me to the community clubhouse—a central hub for social interaction among residents. My father proudly presented me to his group of male companions, whom I affectionately nicknamed “Golf Buddies.”
A notable member of this circle was Arnold, a remarkably tanned gentleman in his seventies, sporting a gold “chai” pendant that hung precariously above his protruding midsection. His appearance seemed straight out of a film depicting the lives of Jewish retirees, and I couldn’t help but notice that the local deli, famous for its “Brooklyn Water Bagel,” was bustling with familiar faces from the Northeast.
A Day in the Life on the Golf Course
My parents’ home is situated right on a golf course. Dressed casually in my old band t-shirt, I found myself spending leisurely mornings in their “Florida Room,” connecting with friends online and sharing the cheerful greeting, “Hi from the Lanai!” as the picturesque scenes of geckos and golfers unfolded around me. (Floridians have various terms for their screened porches, often referred to as lanais.)
However, on my second day in Boca, I accompanied them to a local deli where the menu offered both lox and nova. As I observed the patrons—many accompanied by aides, some using walkers, and others struggling with their meals—an unsettling realization washed over me. The atmosphere felt reminiscent of a hospital waiting room, mingling the scents of illness with that of sour pickles. I couldn’t help but envision my vibrant mother, who participates in Zumba classes multiple times a week, frequenting this place for years to come. Tears welled up behind my sunglasses as I tried to mask my fears.
Reflecting on Their Journey
I had never imagined my parents would settle in such a place. Once free-spirited hippies, they were the coolest parents among my friends. My father was the proud owner of Long Island’s first head shop, “The Magic Cottage,” during my childhood, and our home was filled with unconventional memorabilia. The first time I encountered marijuana at a party, I panicked and called my mother for help. Instead of reprimanding me, she comforted me with tea while my father chuckled at my overreaction.
Two years ago, my father experienced a major health crisis—a heart attack followed by a quintuple bypass. This life-altering event prompted him to retire, leading my parents to leave Long Island, notorious for its high property taxes, and relocate to Boca Raton, often regarded as a final destination for many retirees. The Boca/Delray/Boynton Beach area boasts one of the highest concentrations of Jewish residents, making it feel somewhat like home for my parents.
While I am relieved to see my father enjoying a stress-free life and my mother embracing evening wine and power walks, I grapple with the reality that this stage of life signifies their twilight years. Future health concerns loom large in my mind, and I know that visiting them will require more than just hopping on a train; it will necessitate booking a flight from New York City for any emergencies.
Despite my anxieties, it is evident that my parents have embraced their new lifestyle with enthusiasm and resilience. After spending a week in Boca, I’ve learned to appreciate that, although this phase may be filled with uncertainties, it will also be characterized by sunshine and joy.
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Summary
Visiting retired parents in Boca Raton reveals a blend of nostalgia and concern, as the vibrant past of youthful experiences contrasts sharply with the realities of aging. While the community offers comfort and companionship, it also highlights the inevitable challenges that come with this stage of life. Embracing the joy and sunshine of their new residence becomes essential, as does preparing for future health considerations.