One Day at a time with Mary Balvanz
One of the best parts of working for Western Home Communities is getting to hear the personal stories of our residents—the heart of why we do what we do. I’ve always believed we learn the most not from history books, but from the people who lived it. Not every life story belongs to a politician, a celebrity, or a headline-maker. Sometimes the richest lessons come from someone society might once have labeled a “simple housewife.” And if you’ve ever had a mom or grandma who fit that description, you know there’s nothing simple about it.
Earlier this month, we traveled to Creekside to gather more of these stories. Mary Balvanz was a name among that list—because Mary was 100 years old and already looking ahead to 101 in April. Centenarians are rare. As of early 2024, there were roughly 101,000 people age 100 or older in the United States—about 0.03% of the population. And according to 2020 U.S. Census data, about 1,030 centenarians lived in Iowa. Those numbers may be rising with improved healthcare and longer life expectancy, but reaching 100 is still a milestone many of us will never experience. For families, it’s a gift: one more day, one more conversation, one more chance to hear the stories that shaped a life.
When we sat down with Mary, we asked how she planned to celebrate her 101st birthday. She wasn’t sure—Mary didn’t seem overly concerned with big plans—but staff expected her son and family would come to visit. And it was clear right away that family was at the center of her world. Mary had a large, close-knit family, including many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Her son, Steve, farms cattle near Holland, and she talked about how often her family comes to see her.
Mary’s story begins in Lisbon, where she grew up before becoming a country schoolteacher in Dillon, Iowa. She taught in a one-room schoolhouse—multiple ages of children learning side by side, one teacher keeping the rhythm of the entire room. It’s hard to imagine the patience, creativity, and steady leadership that kind of work requires, yet Mary spoke of it simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Teaching was only one part of her life. Mary was also a farm wife, and “helping” on the farm wasn’t a casual side job—it was real, daily work. Her life carried the kind of effort that doesn’t always get recorded in official histories, but it’s the backbone of countless families and communities across Iowa.
At 100 (nearly 101), Mary still had plenty of personality and strong preferences—delivered with warmth and a quiet sense of humor. She enjoyed the simple pleasures: bingo, cribbage, football, and gardening. She loved looking through seed catalogs, dreaming ahead to what could grow next. She was also known for being a bit of a picky eater, and staff affectionately described her as someone who knew exactly what she wanted. She had a fondness for Coke and candy, and she didn’t mind making her opinions known.
And then there was McDonald’s—Mary’s special request for her 100th birthday was to go there. It’s the kind of detail that makes you smile, because it’s so unmistakably her: straightforward, happy with what she likes, and not interested in impressing anyone.
When we asked Mary if she had advice for reaching 100, she didn’t offer a grand theory or a strict routine. She humbly admitted she didn’t really know how she got there—but then she shared a simple line that felt like the truest kind of wisdom:
“Just go with the flow”
She seemed to agree with taking life one day at a time—resting when needed, enjoying the moment, and not fighting the current more than you have to.
As we visited, it was easy to see how surrounded by love Mary was. In her space, a scrabble-themed wall hanging displayed the names of her great-grandchildren, and a message from one of them on her whiteboard made the room feel even more personal—little reminders that her life had reached outward into so many others.
You may have noticed we’ve been referring to Mary in the past tense. While preparing these resident stories to share, we received the news that Mary passed away just over a week after we met her. We’re grateful we had the chance to sit with her, to listen, and to learn from her presence—her gentleness, her humor, and her calm way of living in the moment.
Mary’s story is a reminder that lives built on family, hard work, and quiet joy matter deeply. And sometimes, the most powerful lesson is also the simplest:
Go with the flow.