In this country, more than one million older adults live in over 30,000 assisted living communities and those numbers continue to grow as our population ages. The options can feel overwhelming. And just like no two people are exactly alike, no two senior living communities are either.
Throughout my career helping older adults and families, I’ve seen what can happen when decisions are rushed or made without a clear process. The consequences can be serious — inconsistent care, emotional isolation and a disconnect between what a person truly needs and what a community provides.
When the process becomes thoughtful and deeply personal, guided by honest reflection and clear priorities, the outcome changes. That’s when families are most likely to find a connected, supportive community. A place where life can continue to flourish or begin to flourish.
I met Alice Bowman after her move, when she was already living in a community she had so carefully chosen. Her journey to get there was her own. Shaped by reflection and the support of those closest to her. It required looking inward — and outward — to find not just a place to live, but a place to belong where the people would truly matter.
Now living her “fifth Season” at Atria Senior Living in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, Alice welcomed me to hear her story. What I discovered instead was a story of purpose, a powerful reminder in her words, that each of us “stand with all the years and the experiences we have ever embraced, and all the grace. Even when we go through hell or high water.”
As soon as Alice spoke these words, I knew our conversation would move beyond the questions I had prepared. The conversation would uncover what matters — to Alice.
To understand the richness of Alice’s story and to understand the texture of how at 89 she chose to begin a chapter at an assisted living community, we need to go back to 1935, the year she was born.
Alice, originally named Nancy (more on that later), was born in her family home on South Baptist Street, in Newport’s vibrant 5th Ward. Surrounded by close-knit family and community, her childhood was steeped in history and tradition. Her grandmother lived just a few streets away on Simmons. Her great grandmother’s brother, Daniel A. Bowman, was among the five young men who founded The Protective Club in 1904, a gathering place that still stands today on Thames Street.
As Alice shared these stories, it became clear that her decision-making process was shaped not only by her deep ties to Aquidneck Island and its tradition, but also by the many life experiences that gave her clarity about what truly matters to her in this later chapter of life.
“The Protective Club originally had two barbershop chairs in the window,” Alice said with a smile. Men would go in for a sip, a haircut and a shave. It was a true social club — a place where the Irish could go and talk about their jobs and what was going on in the neighborhood.”
For Alice, there was another place deeply woven into Newport tradition: The Dorothy B. Gladding School of Dancing, founded in 1917, The Gladding School of Dance still thrives today.
“Back then it was on Spring Street,” she recalled. She mentioned Van Johnson had also attended the school. A name that I later learned was an actor who went on to become a major MGM star during World War II. “We would present our recitals on stage at the old opera house,” Alice added with a smile.
Alice was always drawn to the arts. “I was always a dancer and always loved to sing.” She also took art lessons “way back when I was 15, and I didn’t get serious about that until I retired.”
The tapestry of her life continued to unfold. In 1954, Nancy, at 19, entered the convent with the Daughters of the Holy Spirit, the same order of sisters who would later establish St Clare Residential Center in Newport. When she took her vows, she was given the name Alice, the name she still goes by today.
As a nun, Alice devoted the next 35 years to faith, service and community. She settled in Williston, VT, where over the course of 42 years, she built deep connections and lasting memories. She eventually shared a beautiful home with two dear friends in a community, surrounded by people, connection and purpose.
Over the years, she wore many hats, teacher, superintendent, director of health and rehabilitation and each Christmas, she delighted the community as “Mama Claus,” a role she enjoyed to play.
As time moved on and her two dear friends passed, Alice found herself at a crossroads. It was time to hold on to cherished memories, but also a time to consider what it might mean to let go and open her heart to something new.
“Here I am, alone,” she recalled thinking. “Do I want to just walk every day to the mailbox, or meet people for a monthly meal? Do I want to spend the rest of my life doing that? Or is it time to be near the people I love?”
Alice came to a realization, one I have seen many times in my work with older adults: that holding on too tightly to the past can keep us from fully living in the present and in the future.
“If I keep holding on here, I can’t open up my other hand to what’s ahead of me,” Alice said with confidence. The Lord has given me a fifth season, a season of new discovery, new adventures and new times.”
The decision to leave her home of 42 years took careful consideration. “I decided to leave my home but it wasn’t easy,” Alice admitted. Sometimes something new comes before you, and sometimes you have to go looking for it.”
Alice chose to look for it. Her decision was rooted in the place where her life began and where her much-loved niece Maryann Jordan and nephew Barry Botehlo live today. It was time for Alice to begin her fifth season on Aquidneck Island, the very place where she started her first. She wanted to see them as often as possible and as she put it, “didn’t want to burden them with going to Vermont.”
As the thought of being close to Maryann and Barry took hold, Alice felt ready to take the next step.
She began researching assisted living communities on Aquidneck Island. Living over five hours away, near Burlington, Vermont, she didn’t have the luxury of dropping by for a casual tour, this decision involved much more than that. She relied on research, reflection, virtual visits and her niece’s support to help narrow options.
For Alice, it wasn’t about the appearance of the building or list of amenities, what mattered most were the people, both residents and staff, and finding a true sense of connection. She wanted a place where she could live among others, experience life and contribute in an authentic, meaningful way. And just as importantly, be close to family.
Reflecting on what truly matters guided Alice, and that clarity paved the way for a new door to open.
During one of her virtual tours of Atria in Portsmouth, Alice met Sandra Dugan, who immediately stood out and helped her bring her decision into focus. “She was so personable, taking me through the building,” Alice recalled. “No matter who we passed, she stopped to speak with them. It didn’t feel mechanical or rehearsed.”
For Alice, Sandra embodied what she hoped to find: a place where the people, both residents and staff, genuinely cared for one another. “In little ways you could see they cared for each other. This is a heart team — a team with heart.”

With the support of her family, Alice made the decision to move. She started with a larger apartment and today enjoys the simplicity of a studio.
When I met Alice to learn about her journey she was beaming. She has many friends and is surrounded by the things she values most: people, real conversations and authentic relationships.
“There are so many stories here,” Alice said with optimism. “Wonderful, intelligent, clear-thinking people with opinions. They respect one another for their views. I think it must come with growing older — when you’re younger, you want to hide a few things. But as you age, there is a freedom in acceptance. You don’t want to stay away from being vulnerable. You can tell someone you don’t feel well. I say things now that I wouldn’t have said before. There’s an openness that comes with age — nothing to lose.”
Alice reflected on how her perspective had shifted. “Why did those things seem to matter so much when we were younger? Now they go to the back burner. But what really matters is being transparent and honest with one another. That keeps people truly talking to one another.”
George Bernard Shaw once said, “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
After meeting Alice and watching her light up as she shared her experiences in this rare and wondrous fifth season, I can’t help but agree. The passions young Nancy cherished growing up in Newport — dancing, painting, and later on teaching— are the foundation for her joy in this chapter of life
Today Alice continues to share that joy with others, teaching an art class at Atria where eight fellow residents gather to paint, create, and connect. And with nothing to lose, she decided to see “if people would like my paintings.” She helped organize a show with 28 of her works and as she put it, “was shocked out of my boots” when 75% of them sold. Her nephew even set it up so she could accept credit card payments, something she never expected.
In many ways Alice has shown that the fifth season isn’t about growing older. “It’s about being here for one another,” she said. “Everyone who touches my life makes my life richer. We take care of one another, we never go home alone. And those who have helped others never go home alone”.
When we finished our conversation, Alice smiled and said simply, “I am here. I am home. I never had a day of regret or depression. I’m 89 — and it’s fun.”

And really, that’s what matters most.Helen Hames is an Aging Advisor and Founder of Age Ambassador, where she helps older adults and their families navigate the complex and emotional decisions that come with aging. Her work centers on helping people identify what matters most, whether planning to age at home or exploring senior living options. Helen was honored with the 2025 Senior Champion of the Year Award for her advocacy and personalized guidance that supports older adults in living fully through every season of life.
