What does a house even need to be when it has to serve aging parents and growing kids?
Do we design for now… or for 20 years from now?
Do we plan for a nursery that becomes an office or an office that becomes a caregiver suite?
Do we prioritize single-level living or assume stairs will always be okay?
What happens when mobility changes? Do we already plan for grab bars… or does that feel too soon?
And what about kids? Do we design rooms they’ll “grow into” or rooms that actually grow with them?
And the grandparents…
what do they actually want? Do they want quiet privacy? Or do they want to be in the middle of everything?
Do they want a suite that feels like independence or a bedroom that feels like belonging?
And then there’s hosting.
Do we design a formal dining room that only appears on holidays? China cabinets, candlelight, the “special occasion” life? Or do we kill formality completely and just design for everyday mess?
And what about togetherness? Do we design open concept so everyone is always connected or do we carve out separation so three generations don’t burn out on each other?
Where do we put boundaries?
Where do we put softness?
Where do we plan for caregiving without making it feel like caregiving?
Where do we design dignity into aging?
And I keep circling back to this one question…
Are we designing a house or are we designing a system for multiple stages of life happening all at once?
Because right now I’m not just thinking about furniture or floor plans. I’m thinking about timelines. About memory. About independence. About what it means for one home to hold: beginnings, middles, and endings, all at the same time.
