Still My Home: The Powerful Case for Ageing Where You Belong
Close your eyes for a moment and think about the smell of your home. Maybe it's the faint trace of coffee that lingers long after breakfast. The particular warmth of afternoon sun on a favourite armchair. The garden after rain, or the cedar of an old wardrobe that has stood in the same corner for forty years. These are not small things. These are the invisible threads that stitch a person to their sense of self. Now imagine losing access to all of it overnight. This is the quiet grief that often goes unspoken when older people are moved away from familiar surroundings — a grief not always visible in charts or clinical notes, but deeply felt in the human heart. Home Is More Than a Building There is a beautiful complexity to what we call "home." It is part geography, part memory, part ritual. It is the mug you always reach for first. The route your feet know without instruction. The neighbour who waves from across the fence on Tuesday mornings. Science has long confirmed w...