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    Retirement Living in Florida: His Heaven My Hell
    Retirement Living in Florida: His Heaven My Hell
    Retirement Living in Florida: His Heaven My Hell
    Ebook85 pages1 hour

    Retirement Living in Florida: His Heaven My Hell

    By Rosemarie De Gennaro

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    About this ebook

    Retirement in Florida is a dream for many but not for this New Yorker. With much humor, Rosemarie De Gennaro explains her attempts, and ultimate failures, to adjust to southern living and her hopes to return to her family and life back home on Long Island. All her life, she has prayed for spiritual guidance and followed the answers, even when those answers were undesirable. This was true in her move to Florida, which was all planned as part of her mission in life. A new friendship enriched her and inspired her to write about her experiences. This special bond between two very different women who had meetings of the soul ended all too soon when her friends mission was complete. Take this inspirational journey from New York to Florida, and learn some valuable information if you are contemplating a move.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateMar 17, 2014
    ISBN9781491865767
    Retirement Living in Florida: His Heaven My Hell

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      Book preview

      Retirement Living in Florida - Rosemarie De Gennaro

      Chapter 1

      THE BEGINNING OF THE MOVE

      I t all started with a Southern Living home show at the Marriott Hotel on Route 110 in the beautiful town of Huntington, Long Island. A few weeks prior to the show, we received an invitation by mail. You know the type, with two good-looking, grey-haired seniors on the front. They had straight white teeth, sparkling eyes, loving smiles and walked hand in hand along the beach, the sun shining perfectly and a golf course off in the background. Of course, you get these advertisements as you are shoveling snow, cursing the oil company, freezing your butt off as you try to make it to the grocery store on icy roads. Your charge-card bills are just in from the holidays, abundant reminders of how much you spent on your family’s gifts and how little they are going to wear the clothes, play with the toys, and enjoy the gift cards.

      After receiving and discarding these ads for years, my better half makes a suggestion one Sunday afternoon: let’s go and see what it’s all about. I had nothing better to do, as the children and grandchildren were busy with sports, as usual. Plus he was going crazy in the house with no football on TV and no golf to play for a couple of months because of the beautiful winter weather. Besides, I thought to myself, Mr. Wonderful knows I can’t survive in the South, due to the heat. Somehow, I breathe better in clean, cool, fresh air. I swell like a blimp in the summer months and usually stay at home with the air conditioner cranking day and night. Therefore, Mr. Wonderful would never really move to Florida, a state about which I repeatedly said, I don’t mind visiting, but I could never live there. Believe me, it’s not the state; it’s just me!

      So off we went from our mortgage-free condo in Medford, Long Island, to the Southern Living Expo. Just want to reiterate, it was a horrible, cold, icy, rainy day. As we entered this beautiful hotel, we were surrounded by tables and more tables, stacked with brochures showing lovely homes in communities with golf courses, health spas, tennis courts, bocci courts, restaurants, gyms, and pools. Let’s not forget those huge banners with the loving, happiest old people in the world. All these apparent Gardens of Eden stretch from Delaware to Florida. Behind the tables are smiling, tanned representatives offering a two-night, three-day stay for bargain prices. Not only can you stay and relax by using all the facilities, but they also provide food, shows, gift certificates, and other freebies. Of course, once you are there, you are obligated to sit down with one of their salespeople, who will give you all sorts of information regarding the community and show you the different models available. They promise it will only take about two hours, and then the rest of the stay you can enjoy and experience the better life. Did I mention they also throw in free golf?

      As I squeezed through the crowded room filled with senior citizens, I noticed Mr. Wonderful had several brochures containing information on North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, and, of course, the Sunshine State of Florida. Out of curiosity, I picked up brochures from Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Maryland.

      The talk of a vacation began. After speaking with several representatives from various states, somehow it began to seem feasible to get out of the cold and take advantage of their getaways. We didn’t have to make a definite date; there was no deposit or commitment. All we had to do was fill out a postcard with our name, address, and phone number. Sounds harmless, but it truly was the beginning of the move.

      Chapter 2

      THE HARMLESS DISCUSSION

      O n our drive back home, we commented on the beauty of the homes, the cheaper taxes, the amenities, and, of course, the lower prices compared to New York. We both agreed it sure would be hard to leave family and friends, especially our grandchildren whom we saw almost on a daily basis. We decided we would, sometime in the future maybe, map out a vacation from North Carolina to Florida and take advantage of the mini-vacations that were being offered. It all seemed so simple. I would go home and place all the brochures in a desk drawer, and that would be that.

      A few days after the show, salespeople from Delaware to Florida started to call. All of them had reduced the prices on the mini-vacations, and some had slashed prices on their homes. I would politely explain that the timing was not right and I would get back to them. Every day I would receive several pieces of mail from different states. A few weeks later a salesperson would call to make sure we received the mail and to ask when we could come on down. This went on for months. No matter how nicely or nastily I spoke to them, they still kept calling and mailing. No matter how many times I said, Don’t call me, I’ll call you, they stayed on their mission to get us.

      Chapter 3

      A REPRIEVE

      S pring finally arrived! My husband was happy again. He was playing golf and felt better now that it was getting warmer and we were getting out of the house more. Ah, I’m safe , I’d think. There was very little talk of moving. The economy and housing market weren’t looking too great. Condos weren’t selling, and neighbors who sunk money into renovating theirs weren’t getting their asking price.

      I was a lot calmer—so calm that I decided to join a local senior citizen center. After all, I was sixty and finally qualified. I knew quite a few of these seniors, some from our condo complex, others from church, and many from bus trips I organized to Atlantic City, Foxwoods, New York City shows, and other mini-vacation spots. I really enjoyed their company. Unfortunately, a few weeks after joining this group, I broke my ankle while leaving the center. My friends immediately called 911. An ambulance arrived and transported me to the hospital, and I had surgery the following morning.

      Now, guess who was stuck with me in the house from April until June. Since I was confined to a wheelchair and had to use a walker to literally hop from bedroom

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