When my parents called me in early fall last year to announce that they were moving, I was less than thrilled. Dan and I had just decided to pack up our things and move back to the Northeast. The move was mostly because we needed a reset, but there was also a big part of me that was moving to be closer to my parents again.
Ever since returning from university in Israel, I’ve grown a deep appreciation and need for family time. I realized, through countless Shabbat dinners with my extended family how imperative that time is for my wellbeing. So when my parents excitedly told me that they were not only moving, but moving to The Villages, it was hard for me not to have an extreme reaction.
You might remember this commercial and jingle from the early 2000’s:
And this song was all I could hear as they went on to tell me about their visit down to Florida that led to a set of impulsive house tours which rapidly turned into a decision to move. I couldn’t believe they were doing this—deciding to settle down in the middle of Florida. A place that boasted it’s manicured perfection with what seemed like a pretty homogenous swath of the population riding around in golf carts. How could my parents—immigrants from culturally rich and diverse countries, decide that this is where they wanted to live out their retired years? This move was way “off brand” for me. But all I could do was accept it. So I went home to Connecticut around Thanksgiving to help my parents go through our family home, sifting through old photos and VHS tapes and toys to prepare for their big move.
The Villages have a very distinct brand in the outside world, and for the first few months of their move, I would shamefully share with (only a select few) people where in Florida my parents actually had moved to. I wasn’t sure what I’d be walking into when I went to visit, and to be honest, the idea of flying to Orlando (I hate theme parks) only to drive an hour into seemingly the middle of nowhere to eat subpar food and hang out with a bunch of people who never lived in cities did not appeal to me. Fast forward, and Dan and I (and Oli on her first flight!) boarded a plane to Orlando—a flight filled with kids and people donning their best Disney paraphinalea.
After landing, we drove an hour surrounded by farmland and live oak trees. Growing up in South Florida, this was an abrupt difference to what I’d hoped to see when I finally returned to the state for a visit. Why anyone would move to Florida to not live directly on an ocean is beyond me.
You can tell that you are in the Villages (which span a full zipcode) by the identical roofs peeking out over a white fence lining each side of the road. As we drove down my parents’ new road, I could basically only pick their house out by a sign they’d hung out front with their names on it—a thing most everyone does here.
Their house is really comfortable, and as we settled in and enjoyed a cold water on the lanai, I felt like I could breathe again after a long time of holding my breath. Perhaps it was that I was back home with my parents, or perhaps it was the view of their pond that was frequented by egrets and cranes. Regardless, I felt like I could really relax there.
I spent our two weeks at The Villages meeting my parents’ neighbors, going on night walks, and exploring the “squares”. I read in the mornings on the lanai until the sun got too hot and then went to the pool. I got plenty of subs from Publix and one weekend, we drove to the beach on the west coast, floating in crystal clear sea water.
By the time our visit was nearing to an end, I felt comforted by the community that has been built here. The neighborhood that truly acts as a village (no pun intenteded) of people who have your back—inviting you to join their evening walk or over to theirs for a drink, and there really is so much to do. If you wanted to, you could be busy every single hour of the day. Sure, it’s a bit of an insular place, but its also a place that feels safe and fun.
What more could you ask for in retirement?
My takeaways:
Every morning, The Villages newspaper arrives on the driveway with news from around The Villages and beyond. In it, you can find a list of all the activities, clubs, performances, etc. that are happening across the community, and let me tell you, this list is ROBUST. I would’ve signed up for the glass blowing if there weren’t a waitlist.
As I mentioned before, there is a deep sense of community here. Yes, there are weird things about it like the Facebook groups, weird YouTube accounts (blindly picked this one out of a plethora), and themed luncheon gatherings, but as you all know about me, (and as my safta always says,) I’ll always believe that friends and community are the key to living a long and happy life. The Villages feel like a college campus where you almost always run into someone you know and end up sitting with them to have an ice cream or pizza or watch a show. It’s hard to feel alone, and that’s pretty cool.
The engineering of the land itself is quite impressive. Yes, it looks absolutely insane driving up to a new part of the development and seeing miles and MILES of empty land being built up for this community, but it sounds like they’re also doing some things to be sure that the land is taken care of properly in the process. The water used for irrigation in The Villages comes from collected storm water and pond levels are managed by pumps to avoid flooding.
There are a ton of rumors about The Villages and its residents, but most of what I had heard (and tried to confirm with people I met) was met with wide eyes and innocent (perhaps even embarrassed) laughter. Most of the residents had no idea about much of what I’d read, and if they did, they did not participate in any of it.
The Villagers (as they’re called) proudly speak about The Villages as a bubble that they don’t leave, which is quite unnerving for someone like me who really likes to see and participate in local culture wherever I go. But the thing is, The Villages has brought a huge swath of jobs and businesses that are open to the general public to an area that frankly not many people would naturally think to move to. I do think there should be more encouragement to bolster the local economies of these pre-existing towns (I found the cutest antique shop in one of the nearby towns and it was fabulous!).
I read the newspaper almost every day, and what struck me quite immediately were the obituaries. Everyone lives to be quite old here. I’d be curious if the Blue Zones has done any studies on The Villages, because I’m sure with the activity and social levels of the people here they are bound to be healthier and live longer than your average person. Plus, the weather is quite ideal for aging bodies.
There is so much more to think about with this community, and I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to dive into it more as I visit again. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Much more than I thought I’d be. I left with a nagging wondering. Why don’t we have this for all ages in more parts of the country?.
I continue to feel this desire for us to show up in more community settings like this one earlier in our lives. Leaning on community more. Imagine if we had this type of set up for young families? With the ability to drop your kid off at a neighbor’s house and enjoy a night out without worrying? Or know that you had the support of your village when you needed it most? Life is crazy challenging sometimes, and despite what we are constantly fed, it is not meant to be lived singularly. Despite all the rumors about this place, The Villages is embodying this more community-driven lifestyle, and I think we’d be wise to follow suit.
I found this so interesting, Maya, as someone that also thinks community = longevity. Petition to start a 30's/40's neighborhood where people can rely on one another in this way!