Apartment hunting in Brooklyn earlier this year was predictably a nightmare.
I found a place on Fifth Avenue that was perfectly fine, except for the fact that it didn’t have a closet. Not one.
And in a space above a dog daycare center, the rental company promised, guests were allowed outside for just one hour each day to run around the courtyard barking happily.
and the 13th Street location where my daughter and 7-year-old granddaughter attended an afternoon open house. When I heard my granddaughter’s joyful cries from the back window, I was already thinking, “No!” Look at the rats! ” A group of them were frolicking through garbage bags piled up behind the building. Definitely no.
These rental properties, and others I visited over the course of three months, were very expensive compared to a rent-controlled two-bedroom apartment in New Jersey. The headline noted that New York City’s vacancy rate is at its lowest level in 50 years, and rents are rising proportionately.
So, like any modern-day Brooklynite wannabe, I was preparing for a demoralizing struggle. But I had more problems to work on. That means I was 74 years old.
Older people are less likely to move than younger people, according to a 2022 Census Bureau report. From 2015 to 2019, about 6 percent of people aged 65 and older moved each year, compared to about 15 percent of younger people. Still, the number of elderly people immigrating exceeded 3 million annually.
A 2021 analysis shows that the primary reason older adults move is to be closer to family, rather than a desire for better neighborhoods or lower housing costs.
That was me. Since my granddaughter was born, I’ve been trekking to downtown Brooklyn every week to take care of her on a day called Bab Day, a journey that took an hour and 40 minutes by public transportation.
Ever since my daughter and son-in-law refused to go to leafy but cosmopolitan Montclair with me, we had often talked about moving nearby, but I decided against it first because of the relatively affordable rent. I had been putting it off.
Then the kids moved deeper into the borough and my journey from Jersey grew to about two hours each way. We were so far apart that I couldn’t help them as much as I wanted, and at some point they couldn’t help me. It’s time to get serious.
Moving at an older age is different.
Increased awareness of your own physical abilities. I told my real estate agent that I was not allowed to go above the third floor. We will be able to climb so many stairs this year and perhaps even next year, but what will the future hold? No one can predict, but it’s not a smart bet. I wanted to be within a few subway stops of my family, and the area I was looking in had very few rental buildings with elevators, so stairs were important.
Also, do you have that recording you hear on the train that proudly informs passengers that the New York City subway has 150 accessible stations? It doesn’t say there are 472 stations in total. In the future, I wanted to make sure that my nearest station was one of the 30 percent that had an elevator or escalator for public transportation.
The physically monotonous hard work of moving can also be a big deal. Just thinking about sifting and donating and disposing of everything, packing and unpacking it all made my back stiff. I had already undergone a major downsizing from my home, so moving from apartment to apartment should have seemed like less of a burden. But I was 15 years older.
However, I knew a good solution to this problem. A new breed of professional, the senior moving manager, has emerged to help seniors handle both the detail and physical labor of a move. More than 1,000 such companies have sprung up across the country over the past 20 years. You can find local movers through an online search or use the locator on the National Association of Senior Move Managers website. I hired a manager to help my father and sister move into a nursing home.
A senior moving manager will inspect your home and discuss the floor plan for your new location. Then she (usually) helps you figure out what you can take with you, what you can sell or donate, and what you have to junk. She will help you accomplish everything and plan where and what to put in your new home. She recommends moving companies.
The crew will pack you, unpack, and put everything away in drawers, cabinets, and closets. And that’s the genius part. Then remove the box and bubble wrap. Once the work is complete, your new place will already look like home. Some moving companies will even display your photo on the wall.
True, this is not cheap. My manager estimated that if I were to find a hard-to-find apartment in Brooklyn, her company’s services would cost between $3,500 and $5,000, far more than the cost of a truck and movers. It was expensive. But I viewed mobility management as an investment in my sanity and musculoskeletal system. I took a deep breath and signed the contract.
But there’s no way to outsource the emotional effort of leaving the city you’ve spent 40 years in. Almost every time I go to the farmer’s market, downtown movie theater, or local bookstore, I run into a familiar face. I was attending exercise classes several times a week, and if I didn’t show up for a few days, someone would call me to ask why. I knew where to go to fix everything from watches to Subarus.
In Brooklyn, we were able to replace most of what we needed. I found friends to have lunch with, watch movies with, and play Scrabble with.
And of course, it was easier to spend time with my family. If you didn’t mind New Jersey’s transportation schedule, you could even stay for dinner. The round trip took less than four hours, so I was able to watch my granddaughter (known to Times readers as Bartola in the family’s homage to former Mets pitcher Bartolo Colon) perform at her school’s dance festival. Ta.
But moving late in life is unlikely to replace the kinds of relationships that have matured over decades. There simply isn’t enough time.
I continued to submit the onerous documents that New York City landlords now require: tax returns, bank statements, and letters of recommendation from past landlords. I was regularly asked how much more I was willing to pay than the advertised rent, and I always worried that I would be outdone by a young Citibank executive. I lost 7 pounds on an unpleasant but effective high anxiety diet.
But as everyone expected, I didn’t wholeheartedly believe it, but luckily I found a classy brownstone apartment on a shady street just two subway stops from my kids. Ta. It had light and space and a small second bedroom that also served as an office. There was a dishwasher! The rent was modest, but cheaper than that place with the rats. I signed the rental agreement and started sending change of address notices.
A farewell meal and party followed, and the gathering was both beautiful and sad. Movers then arrived and spent two days packing 70 boxes. A few hours later, in Brooklyn, they unpacked their belongings.
I settled there, met friendly neighbors, found a doctor, got a New York State driver’s license, and registered to vote.
I remember having a washer and dryer in the basement and windows on all sides. I miss walking and yakking with friends for a long time. I also know that this is probably not my final home. The day may come when you won’t be able to climb two flights of stairs.
Still, I am confident that I made the right decision at the right time. Nothing would have been easier if I had waited. This is my home now. Explore new adventures.
