Meet the Men of Bruceville Point

Bob and Bill enjoy a seasonal drink together at a community social.
“I’ve sure seen a lot of places,” Bill said, referring to his 20 years of service in the Air Force. “I’ve seen the Northern Lights from Thule, Greenland.”
“We went there, to Thule,” Lou, who served in the Coast Guard, offered.
“Oh, really?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, we would go there in the spring to break the ice,” Lou confirmed.
“Wow. It’s north of the magnetic pole. In other words, when you looked at a compass, the needle was pointed South to the North Pole,” Bill marveled.
Lou nodded, recognizing the memory. “It’s like a desert up there. A desert of ice,” Lou added.
This is one snippet of a conversation I recently enjoyed with three men who live at Bruceville Point. Bob, Bill, and Lou generously shared their stories, many of which centered on the care they’ve given their wives, children, and grandchildren.
When Caregiving Feels Isolating
Sometimes being a caregiver can feel as isolating as being in the far reaches of the earth, staring out onto a frozen desert. As these men have discovered, moving to Bruceville Point has helped melt some of that loneliness.

Bill and his wife listen to live music together at happy hour.
Bill recently moved his wife into Harbor, the Memory Care neighborhood at Bruceville Point. He has found a sense of camaraderie he couldn’t have imagined a few years ago. Other residents, including Lou and Bob, often share their own journeys caring for a spouse or loved one. “They understand what I’m going through. They understand what’s going on, and that has been a big help,” Bill said.
Team members—care partners, servers, and others—are there to support residents, but some of the most meaningful connections arise from other residents who have shared a similar journey.
Learning to Live Alone
Bill shared that, after his wife moved, adjusting to living alone was especially difficult. Lou, who had cared for his wife before losing her to cancer, remembered his own transition. “I was devastated. I didn’t leave my apartment. I just sat and watched TV,” Lou recalled.
Bill nodded quietly.
“Then, Jaime (the Events and Adventures Director at the time), came along with Cards Against Humanity. He invited me to play,” Lou said. He began leaving his apartment, a little at first, then more often as time passed.

Today, you can find Lou enjoying time in the community, painting, playing poker, and gathering with residents.
Laughter Around the Dinner Table
Bob understood what Bill and Lou were talking about. “This is a real community. People are always friendly. Everyone says hi. And the staff are helpful, always ready to help you,” Bob noted.

Bob and his wife, always on the go, enjoy a picnic lunch at Lake Natoma.
“Everybody is friendly,” Bill echoed.
Bob talked about how his wife missed golfing with her friends. Now, they’ve found new routines that bring them joy. “Dinner is always good. My wife and I sit with two friends. We talk too loudly or laugh out loud. We joke with each other; it’s a lot of laughing.”
Bill, who typically sits at the table next to Bob, wholeheartedly agreed. “It’s always social here. At dinner, we talk about everything under the sun.”
For men who once found camaraderie in their military units, this sense of everyday connection is familiar. Bill and Lou both served, one in the Air Force and one in the Coast Guard. They know what it means to belong to a close-knit group.
At Bruceville Point, they have found something similar. This time, it just includes more women than it did during their service years. “I’ve never lived in a place with so many women,” Lou commented. “Too bad I’m too old now!” he laughed.
Proud Fathers, Lasting Legacies
“I’m proud of my family,” Bill said, referring to his 5 children and many grandchildren. He mentioned his son, who was inspired to get a degree in aeronautical engineering and has worked for Boeing for more than 25 years.
Bob shared how proud he was of his daughter, who graduated from UCLA with a degree in economics, and then went on to earn a master’s in theology and become an ordained minister.
Lou described how his infant daughter whipped him into shape. When she was born, he left behind his idle weekends of drinking and began watching his language more carefully. “I was a sailor, with a sailor’s mouth,” he confessed.

Bill, Monica, and Lou raise the stakes in a fun poker game, reminiscent of the games Bill and Lou played while in the service.
As each of the men talked about their legacy, especially the children he is so proud of, Bob noted that their legacies now extend to their friends at Bruceville Point.
Bob looked to Bill and Lou, each several years older than him. “I’m impressed by people like you, who, at your ages, can do the things you do,” Bob said with a bit of awe. He mentioned seeing Lou always opting for the stairs over the elevator. “I’ve been lucky,” Lou said with gratitude. “I went through some crazy things, but I’m still here.”
“I hope I can reach that,” Bob responded.
A Place to Be Understood
For many families, the hardest part of the care journey is realizing you don’t have to do it alone. At Bruceville Point, these men have found exactly what they spent years giving to others: care, companionship, and community.

