THE CALIFORNIA CLOSETS MAGAZINE
She has been married, divorced, and widowed. She has been the mother of four, a Montessori teacher, and a hospice worker. She’s scrimped, and she’s lived large. In her living room, the painting of a woman could have been Jordan-Knox in an earlier incarnation, as a grande dame with her second husband, the founder of luxury Canadian furnishings store Jordans Interiors. “I’ve been in the basement with no heat, and I’ve been in the penthouse with the world at my feet,” she says. “It’s been wonderful, and now I know exactly what to enjoy.”
Jordan-Knox found it near her hometown of Vancouver, BC. She lives in an intentional community—a concept that encourages social interaction and teamwork—and one that many are exploring as they age. A friend invited her to the community’s church some years ago, and she drove around. “When I entered that property, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace,” she recalls. She wanted to live there and put her name on a list. She had already downsized, living for 20 years in an apartment over her daughter’s garage to be near the grandchildren, who she didn’t tell about her application because she didn’t know if she’d be accepted. But they based approval on community participation, and Jordan-Knox fit the bill. She volunteers teaching English as a second language. And, after a tragic death in her family 30 years ago, she learned hospice work from the nuns who tended to lepers in Molokai, Hawaii. “I can take people on their final journey with ease and with love,” she says. “It’s a lot like childbirth, you know? It’s not always easy to make the transition.”
“There’s a security in being at the top of the ninth. But I don’t want to go out sitting on the bench. I want to be out on the field, ready to hit a home run.”
After four years on the wait list, the Sharon Village Housing Society offered her a 940-square-foot second-floor walk-up, one of 90 units—as is. She took it and began remodeling with gusto. And for once, she focused on what she wanted. “I’ve always done it for my children, what does my husband like,” she says. “This freedom is amazing.” Her home now features a fireplace cabinet in the living room, extra storage in the kitchen and dining room, and two Murphy beds. Jordan-Knox uses the smaller of the two bedrooms; the other is for visiting grandchildren, all five now in their twenties. “That was important, that they would know there was a place for them to come,” she says. “They tell me how hard university is, how hard work is, how expensive it is to rent a crummy car, the girlfriend that just dumped them. They come with everything. I’m so proud of that.”
And she loves the beautiful place where she lives. The doctors, accountants, and writers in the community all pitch in. “We clean our halls, we help with gardening, we shovel snow together.” And all give back. “I just wish there were more places like this in the world,” she says. “Being in service is such an honor. It means you’ve been around the block a couple of times, and you’re ready to pay back.” Jordan-Knox has been through all the ages and stages. She knows herself—and is not only growing older, but bolder. “There’s a security in being at the top of the ninth,” she says. “But I don’t want to go out sitting on the bench. I want to be out on the field, ready to hit a home run.”