Growing old in the countryside: What it's like living in a shared apartment for seniors

Everything is different. Jutta Garling has only kept her morning routine the same. She drinks coffee, reads the newspaper, spends some time on her tablet. She doesn't leave her 60-square-meter sanctuary until late morning at the earliest. She checks to see if any roommates are there to chat in the hallway, the common area, or the garden. "This," says the 64-year-old, "is exactly what I need. I can go my own way. And I'm part of a community."

About a year ago, Jutta Garling moved from Siegburg, a small town between Bonn and Cologne, to the Emsland region of Lower Saxony, 230 kilometers away. She traded an entire single-family home for two rooms: one for sleeping, one for living. And decided to try an experiment. She wants to grow old in a shared community for seniors in a rural setting. The Woltershof in Lingen, Lower Saxony, has room for twelve people. The minimum age is 60, and the maximum age is currently 87.

Woltershof: Those who move in here have their own apartment. There are also communal areas.

Source: Saskia Heinze

Judith Wolters and Kerstin Staben, with their association "natürlich to huus," came up with the idea for the seniors' shared apartment. "It came from my parents, who lived on this farm and gradually became in need of care," Wolters explains. "Even though my father was already suffering from dementia, he had a set daily routine. Walking the dog in the morning, feeding the chickens, checking the tractor... I thought: Man, it would actually be good if all seniors lived to such an old age."

So the two women painstakingly converted the old stables of the farm, which had ceased operations in the early 2000s, into a barrier-free space on their own. The renovation began in 2020, and one year later, the first apartment was ready for occupancy. Nine more followed and were ready for occupancy in 2022. Four guest apartments were also added, two of which are now rented – "because the demand was so great," says Wolters.

The senior living community is primarily inhabited by single women. A single man will be moving in soon, says Wolters. The cock of the walk. "There are a lot of people in their 60s and early 70s who think very early on: Wow, I'm retired now, what am I going to do with my life?" she says. "Many then say: I'd rather move out now than be moved out at some point and no longer have a say."

That's how it was for Jutta Garling. She lives on the Woltershof farm for €1,500 a month. She immediately liked the open space: lots of forest, lots of fields, two horses in the paddock, and a meadow orchard. She sees great potential in the large communal garden with its adjoining terrace. Lingen is accessible, not on foot, but by car. For shopping, doctor's appointments, yoga classes. If that's not possible? A shuttle service.

For her move, Garling had to declutter. Few possessions from her old life made it into the new apartment. She points to a large, brown display case that she always liked. It's a large picture of a large church from her old hometown. She always loved going for walks there. Down the hall, a few steps, then outside: A dwarf sits enthroned in the garden next to a freshly planted serviceberry. "Egon," says Garling. "Of course, he had to come too."

How did this new beginning in the north come about? "I want to grow old differently than what I experienced with my mother," says the 64-year-old. She cared for her at home for years; no one else was there. That's when she realized: A plan for aging is needed before you become dependent on care. Especially as a single person without children. How will that work if she needs help herself one day? Are there alternatives to a nursing home or home care? Is that even reliable? "Now I can still make my own decisions."

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The biggest worry that plagued her mother until the very end: that she would eventually have to move out of the house. The large living space had actually just created a lot of work. Work that her daughter did – and in the process, she herself was neglected. Are all the tiles still on the roof? What happens in the event of flooding? Despite help from gardeners and tradesmen, there was always something to be done. When it became clear that she was moving to Woltershof, she sold to a young family. "I just don't want to have to deal with it anymore."

At Woltershof, she can continue to live independently – with the difference that she has helpers around her at all times. Be it the association that would support her in applying for a care level, for example, or accompany her to meetings with the medical service. Or her flatmates, who bring each other groceries from town or drive each other to doctor's appointments. Wolters speaks of a "generational contract" that the senior citizens have formed with each other. "They help each other because they know full well that when I'm 88, there will be others who are a bit younger and fitter who will help me too."

It's midday. A visit to the farm's ponies, the "little curious noses." Jutta Garling feeds them, exchanges their water, and observes the animals. On the way back, she happens to run into roommate Kerstin and her dog, "Krümel." A quick chat. On the way back through the courtyard, she checks the garden to see if there's anything to pluck or water.

Jutta Garling looks after the ponies on the farm every day.

Source: Saskia Heinze

She's deliberately moved closer to the others here. Even though she runs the household in her apartment alone, there's always someone there now when things get too much for her. "Here, I really only have to go downstairs to meet someone," says Garling. A shared apartment chat is also helpful. They use it to regularly arrange to play games: Phase 10, Rummikub, Skipbo, and she's currently learning Doppelkopf. Sometimes everyone cooks together, knits. Most recently, they piled meters of wood together as a collective activity. "Things like that are good for our group," says Garling. "To realize: Wow, we can still manage all of this – together."

Sometimes people from the neighborhood also come to visit, especially when the association offers knitting afternoons, lectures, and presentations, or its ever-popular senior citizens' café with homemade cakes in the courtyard.

Jutta visits Gertrud, the oldest flatmate at 87 years old, on her balcony.

Source: Saskia Heinze

But not everything is wonderful. "Sometimes doubts arise," says Garling. She only knew the others superficially until moving in. After an hour and a half of conversation, she got the acceptance. Expectations of shared living differ. At shared living meetings, tensions can sometimes arise – over small things: for example, when it comes to which garden furniture to buy. But also over fundamental decisions. One couple moved out quite quickly because they wanted significantly more contact with each other. Mandatory bingo twice a week and cooking dinner for everyone? That wouldn't be for Garling.

Sometimes she still feels like a stranger in Emsland. "I'll always be the newcomer here." This makes farm life itself all the more important. Everyone in the shared flat is still fit. How will life together develop if she or another roommate becomes in need of care? A space has already become available, and one flatmate recently passed away suddenly. What if new people move in?

"I'm really excited to see how this develops," says Garling. If she realizes it's no longer a good fit, she can move out at any time. So far, though, she doesn't regret her move at all.